Tnompson 
Buchanan 


LIFE 


LIFE 

A  NOVELIZATION 
OF  THOMPSON  BUCHANAN'S  PLAY 


BY 

D.  TORBETT 


NEW     YORK 

GROSSET    &    DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,  1815,  BY 
EDWARD    J.   CLODE 


LIFE 


2134259 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  general  verdict  among  people  who 
knew  her  was  that  Ruth  Stuyvesant  was 
an  unusual  girl.  And  this  did  not  mean 
that  she  was  extraordinarily  beautiful,  or  even 
more  talented  and  accomplished  than  the  aver- 
age girl  in  her  position;  neither  was  she  ec- 
centric nor  given  to  fads. 

Nevertheless,  at  nineteen,  on  the  eve  of  mak- 
ing her  formal  bow  to  the  great  world  of  so- 
ciety, where  she  was  bound  to  take  a  conspicu- 
ous place  on  account  of  her  father's  wealth 
and  position,  she  had  already  given  signs  of 
being  a  young  woman  of  unusual  force  of 
character. 

Not  that  she  was  aggressive  or  pushing  in 
the  strident  manner  of  many  of  the  young 
women  of  the  day;  aside  from  a  quick  temper, 
which  flashed  out  at  unexpected  moments  at 
any  suggestion  of  unfairness  or  injustice,  she 
was  unusually  quiet  and  modest.  But  among 
the  girls  of  her  own  age  it  was  well  under- 
stood that  when  Ruth  Stuyvesant  made  up  her 
mind,  argument  and  eloquence  were  alike 
wasted,  nothing  could  move  her. 

People  of  the  older  generation  who  remem- 
bered her  paternal  grandmother,  whose  fame 
as  a  "  leader  "  was  still  a  tradition  in  New 


2  LIFE 

York  society,  said:  "  Of  course  she'd  be  differ- 
ent; she  wouldn't  be  old  Mrs.  Stuyvesant 's 
granddaughter  if  she  wasn't!  "  But  the  con- 
venient theory  of  heredity  somehow  broke 
down  when  Ruth's  elder  brother  Ralph,  a  young 
man  about  town,  came  under  discussion.  He 
certainly  betrayed  none  of  the  ancestral 
strength  of  mind.  Also,  contrary  to  the  Stuy- 
vesant  tradition,  which  allowed  for  a  certain 
amount  of  wild-oat  sowing  among  the  men  of 
the  family,  provided  that  the  harvest  was  soon 
garnered,  without  publicity  or  scandal,  Ralph 
had  not  settled  down. 

True,  he  had  married  early,  as  did  all  the 
Stuyvesant  men,  a  rather  colorless  woman  of 
suitable  position  and  fortune,  who  was  seen 
everywhere  wearing  a  perpetually  aggrieved 
look.  But  it  was  pointed  out  that,  while  at 
twenty-five  his  father,  already  married,  had 
been  made  a  member  of  the  firm  in  the  old 
house  of  Stuyvesant  and  Company,  bankers, 
Ralph,  at  twenty-eight,  was  still  only  an  em- 
ployee, whose  duties  seemed  to  be  rather  vague, 
whose  responsibilities  were  nil.  It  was  even 
rumored  that  the  elder  Mr.  Stuyvesant  contem- 
plated taking  an  outsider  into  the  firm,  pass- 
ing over  Ralph's  head.  This  interesting  piece 
of  gossip  was  supplemented  with  one  even  more 
important  to  the  Stuyvesants'  friends  in  the 
social  world:  it  was  said  that  this  same  for- 
tunate young  man  would  eventually  become 
allied  with  the  house  by  the  strongest  of  pos- 


LIFE  3 

sible  ties,  namely,  that  of  husband  of  the  daugh- 
ter and  heiress. 

Whether  this  rumor  had  reached  the  ears  of 
Ruth,  it  was  impossible  to  say.  And  Ruth  was 
not  the  sort  of  person  to  whom  one  repeated 
idle  gossip.  In  spite  of  the  fact  that  she  was 
always  alluded  to  in  the  society  columns  of  the 
newspapers  as  the  "beautiful  Miss  Stuyve- 
sant,"  Euth  was  not,  strictly  speaking,  beauti- 
ful. But  pretty  and  charming  she  was  to  an 
exceptional  degree.  With  her  reddish  hair — 
which  possession  she  always  laughingly  blamed 
for  her  quick  temper — her  wide  and  humorous 
mouth,  her  eyes  of  that  indeterminate  hue, 
which  some  poet  has  happily  described  as 


-Too  expressive  to  be  blue, 


Too  lovely  to  be  grey," 

she  was  always  a  most  delectable  picture. 

But,  best  of  all,  she  was  the  happy  possessor 
of  that  greatest  of  all  social  gifts,  using 
"social"  in  its  broadest  sense — the  gift  of 
being  sympathetically  interested  in  the  people 
about  her.  Whatever  enemies  she  had  or  was 
to  have  in  the  future — and  her  position  was 
bound  to  excite  both  envy  and  jealousy,  the 
millennium  being,  as  yet,  indefinitely  post- 
poned— they  would  never  be  numbered  among 
any  of  the  dependents  of  the  house  of  Stuy- 
vesant.  Among  her  father's  servants  and  em- 
ployees down  to  the  newest  office  boy  in  the 
bank,  she  was  nothing  short  of  adored. 


4  LIFE 

Between  Ruth  and  her  father  existed  a  ten- 
der and  sympathetic  relation,  beautiful  as  it 
was  rare.  She  was  at  once  his  pride  and  his 
compensation.  Although  she  was  a  Stuyvesant 
through  and  through,  there  were  times  when 
his  dead  wife,  whose  memory  he  tenderly 
cherished  after  the  lapse  of  years,  looked  out 
at  him  through  her  eyes. 

And,  as  far  as  possible,  she  made  up  to  him 
for  the  bitter  disappointment  which  he  suf- 
fered in  the  career  and  character  of  his  son. 
How  galling  this  disappointment  was  he  was 
too  proud  to  confess  even  to  his  daughter.  But 
occasionally,  under  the  spur  of  fresh  tidings 
of  Kalph's  debts  or  the  tale  of  his  having  been 
seen  in  public  with  some  of  the  most  notorious 
women  of  the  town,  he  showed  to  the  sympa- 
thetic eye  of  his  dearly  loved  daughter  a  little 
of  his  secret  hurt. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Ruth  knew  quite  as  much 
as  her  father  of  Ralph's  conduct  outside  of  the 
bank.  That  the  source  of  their  common  in- 
formation was  Ralph's  wife  did  not  tend  to 
increase  the  good  feeling  between  the  sisters- 
in-law.  At  any  fresh  evidence  that  Anna  had 
been  complaining  to  her  father,  Ruth's  resent- 
ment increased.  At  first  she  had  fought  against 
a  natural  tendency  to  despise  her  brother's 
wife  as  a  superficial,  silly  and  weak  woman. 
But  as  time  went  on  she  had  more  or  less  justi- 
fied herself  to  herself.  Seeing  that  she  was  one 
of  those  people  who  must  tell  her  woes  to  some- 


LIFE  5 

one,  Ruth  had  reluctantly  encouraged  her  to 
come  to  her  with  her  troubles.  And  with  the 
tacit  understanding  that  by  so  doing  she  was 
shielding  her  father,  she  had  more  than  once 
rescued  them  from  some  pressing  debt.  Her 
own  allowance  was  ample  for  her  needs ;  there 
was  always  some  way  to  economize,  something 
she  herself  could  do  without. 

Ever  since  her  early  school  days,  Euth  had 
made  it  a  habit  to  go  down  to  the  bank  in  the 
automobile  several  times  a  week  to  bring  her 
father  home.  This  little  attention  pleased  the 
old  gentleman  greatly.  But  it  was  part  of  the 
pleasure  to  complain  loudly  in  the  hearing  of 
the  various  officers  of  the  establishment  that 
he  was  the  most  persecuted  man  alive.  Never 
could  he  escape  from  petticoat  tyranny !  Other 
men  were  permitted  to  find  their  way  home 
after  a  hard  day's  work  by  themselves.  Not 
he!  Of  what  he  was  suspected  he  did  not 
know.  But,  as  all  the  world  could  see,  he  had 
to  have  a  keeper!  It  was  mortifying,  it  was 
humiliating,  it  was  outrageous!  And  grum- 
bling at  a  great  rate  in  this  fashion,  he  would 
beam  happily  upon  his  daughter  as  they 
started  home  together.  In  his  own  heart  he 
was  already  looking  forward  with  dread  to  the 
day  when  her  new  social  duties,  after  her 
debut,  would  be  too  absorbing  to  permit  of  this 
complained-of  espionage. 

Naturally,  it  frequently  happened  that  Euth 
would  arrive  while  her  father  was  in  confer- 


6  LIFE 

ence  with  some  of  his  associates.  With  old- 
fashioned  courtesy,  he  always  sent  out  his 
apologies,  promising  to  be  with  her  shortly.  It 
was  during  these  times  that  she  had  gradually 
come  to  know  many  of  the  humbler  members 
of  the  establishment.  When  Mr.  Stuyvesant 
was  at  length  released  from  his  board  meeting, 
or  what  not,  he  was  sure  to  find  his  daughter's 
chair  surrounded  by  some  of  the  younger 
clerks  and  stenographers,  with  all  of  whom  she 
was  on  terms  of  easy  comradeship.  Of  course, 
he  always  affected  to  regard  this  demoraliza- 
tion of  discipline  as  one  of  the  many  evil  con- 
sequences of  her  insistence  on  "seeing  him 
home."  Secretly  he  was  proud  of  her  gift  of 
making  friends,  of  her  popularity  with  all  the 
staff. 

"If  she  had  only  been  the  son  of  the  house!'- 
There  wasn't  a  man  in  the  place  who  wouldn't 
do  anything  for  her.  Whereas  Ealph,  as  his 
father  well  knew,  was  cordially  disliked  for  his 
overbearing  and  supercilious  manner. 

One  afternoon  toward  the  end  of  May,  Euth 
had  had  to  wait  an  unusually  long  time.  She 
had  found  her  father  closeted  with  Ralph,  al- 
ways a  sign  of  fresh  worry  and  annoyance. 
She  had  declined  to  send  in  word  that  she  was 
waiting,  and  while  pretending  to  read  a  maga- 
zine, with  which  one  of  the  stenographers  had 
provided  her,  watched  with  amused  and  indul- 
gent eyes  the  progress  of  a  little  flirtation  be- 
tween two  of  the  humblest  of  the  bank's  em- 


LIFE  7 

ployees,  one  of  the  stenographers  and  the 
watchman.  She  knew  and  liked  them  both  and 
had  already  made  up  her  mind  that  they  were 
people  to  be  helped  whenever  the  time  came 
when  they  should  be  ready  to  settle  down  se- 
riously. There  was  no  mistaking  that  they 
were  in  earnest,  although  the  girl  tried  hard 
to  pretend  not  to  be. 

They  were  both  very  young,  although  the 
watchman's  face  Euth  sometimes  fancied  had 
a  curiously  hunted  look,  which  made  him  seem 
prematurely  older  than  his  years.  She  made  a 
mental  note  that  she  must  ask  her  father  about 
him.  When  at  length  her  father  came  into  the 
outer  office,  he  was  accompanied  both  by  Ralph 
and  by  Thomas  Burnett,  the  man  whose  speedy 
advancement,  in  a  double  sense,  society  was 
prophesying,  as  Ruth  well  knew.  The  report 
had  caused  her  much  secret  annoyance,  partly 
because  it  had  been  Ralph's  wife  who  had  been 
her  informant.  Ruth's  ever-ready  temper  had 
taken  fire  at  once. 

"Of  course,  it  is  too  much  to  expect  that 
people  mind  their  business;  most  of  our 
friends,  unfortunately,  haven't  enough  to  oc- 
cupy their  minds  to  keep  them  from  meddling 
with  other  people's  affairs.  I  have  known 
Tom  Burnett  ever  since  he  first  went  into 
father's  bank.  I  call  him  Tom,  but  then  I  call 
a  number  of  the  other  clerks  by  their  first 
names.  Why  don't  they  marry  me  off  to 
O'Brien,  the  watchman.  I  always  call  him 


8  LIFE 

Dennis!  Oh,  it's  all  too  disgusting.  I  don't 
see  how  you  can  bring  yourself  to  listen  to  such 
twaddle,  much  less  how  you  can  repeat  it." 

Mrs.  Ralph  Stuyvesant's  brown  eyes  had 
narrowed  for  a  moment. 

"Oh,  don't  you  think  you  are  just  a  little 
too  severe?"  she  drawled  in  her  affected  man- 
ner, which  always  got  on  Ruth's  nerves. 
"After  all,  you  know,  you  do  give  the  report 
some  color,  running  down  to  the  bank  nearly 
every  day  as  you  do.  Everybody  thinks  you 
go  to  see  Tom." 

"Why,  I  began  going  down  when  I  was  only 
a  girl  in  short  dresses.  Tom  Burnett  had  just 
left  college  to  go  into  business.  I  don't  suppose 
he  had  been  in  long  trousers  more  than  a  few 
years. ' ' 

"Yes,  so  I've  heard,"  replied  Mrs.  Stuyve- 
sant,  in  a  tone  which  made  Ruth  feel  that  she 
understood  why  people  suddenly  were  impelled 
to  murder. 

She  had  bitten  back  a  stinging  retort,  re- 
membering that  her  sister-in-law  always  had 
a  weapon  in  reserve.  She  could  make  her  poor 
father  more  unhappy  by  carrying  him  tales  of 
Ralph's  misdoings. 

But  the  gossip  had  had  one  result.  Try  as 
she  would,  Ruth  found  to  her  secret  chagrin 
that  all  attempts  to  keep  her  manner  to  Tom 
pitched  in  the  same  light,  familiar,  brother-and- 
sister  key  that  they  had  years  ago  adopted 
failed  to  ring  true  in  her  own  ears. 


LIFE  9 

That  Tom,  too,  detected  the  false  note  she 
was  perfectly  convinced,  although  he  never  be- 
trayed by  look  or  manner  that  he  was  con- 
scious of  it.  But  then  Tom  had  always  been  a 
very  shrewd  young  person. 

The  gossip  had  spoiled  everything,  she  told 
herself.  She  was  constantly  on  the  watch  when 
with  him,  and  while  she  fought  against  it  and 
told  herself  that  her  doubts  were  unjust  to  him 
and  unworthy  of  herself,  she  could  not  over- 
come the  growing  suspicion  that  young  Burnett 
knew  perfectly  what  people  were  saying  about 
them,  and  that,  worst  of  all,  he  was,  in  a  subtle 
manner,  doing  everything  he  could  to  furnish 
additional  grounds  for  the  report. 

For  while  his  manner  remained  unchanged 
when  they  were  alone  or  when  her  father  only 
was  present,  when  they  met  at  the  opera  or 
the  theater,  or  at  any  of  the  luncheons  or  small 
dinners  which  are  permitted  to  a  young  woman 
not  yet  officially  "out,"  he  assumed  an  attitude 
of  tender  protection,  the  more  exasperating  be- 
cause it  was  too  intangible  for  her  to  combat. 
After  all,  Ruth  was  still  a  very  young  girl.  It 
could  not  be  expected  that  she  would  be  as 
adroit  as  a  woman  of  the  world. 

She  had,  as  it  happened,  been  particularly 
annoyed  by  him  only  the  evening  before.  A 
reflection  of  that  annoyance  displayed  itself  in 
her  manner  as  she  rose  from  her  chair  to  greet 
her  father.  She  noticed  that  Ealph's  face  wore 
a  sullen  look,  which  contrasted  sharply  with 


10  LIFE 

her  father's  worried  expression  and  the  alert, 
bright  look  of  Burnett. 

With  a  muttered  excuse  about  being  late  for 
an  appointment  and  a  sulky  ''Hello,  sis," 
Ealph  shrugged  himself  into  a  light  topcoat 
and  out  the  door. 

"Don't  forget  to  look  in  on  me  to-night," 
called  Burnett  after  him. 

Mr.  Stuyvesant  sank  wearily  into  a  chair. 

"I'm  sorry  to  have  kept  you  waiting  so  long, 
daughter,  but  there  were  some  things  that  I 
had  to  attend  to  at  the  last  minute.  We're  go- 
ing to  make  some  changes  down  here.  But  Tom 
shall  tell  you  about  them  when  we  get  home. 
You'll  ride  up  with  us,  won't  you,  Tom!" 

"Now,  father,  dear,"  said  Euth,  patting  his 
hand  tenderly,  "you  have  been  working  too  late. 
I  don't  intend  to  let  you  even  talk  business  any 
more  to-night.  Tom,  I'm  going  to  uninvite  you 
to  come  with  us.  Father's  tired,  and  besides, 
I  want  him  to  myself.  I've  some  very  impor- 
tant business  of  my  own  to  discuss.  You  won't 
mind,  I  know." 

Burnett  accepted  his  dismissal  with  charac- 
teristic good  humor,  while  Mr.  Stuyvesant,  tak- 
ing his  cue  to  grumble  about  not  even  being 
permitted  to  ask  a  friend  to  ride  home  with 
him,  such  was  the  tyranny  under  which  he 
lived,  declared  himself  ready  to  depart. 

"You're  going  to  see  Ralph  this  evening, 
didn't  you  say!"  he  asked  as  Burnett  stood 
at  the  door  of  the  automobile.  * '  Your  influence 


LIFE  II 

over  him  is  far  stronger  than  his  father's,  and 
has  always  been  for  his  good.  Try  and  make 
him  see  that  no  one  will  be  more  glad  than  I 
to  see  any  signs  of  improvement  in  his  conduct 
and  to  reward  it.  Stuyvesant  and  Company 
will  welcome  him  as  a  partner  whenever  he 
shows  signs  of  meriting  such  an  advance." 

" Surely,  sir,  you  can  count  on  me.  I'll  make 
him  see  that  I  am  only  holding  down  the  place 
until  he  is  ready  to  take  things  a  little  more 
seriously." 

"Not  at  all,  not  at  all.  But  there  is  na 
reason  why,  with  our  immense  business,  there 
should  not  be  room  for  you  both." 

For  several  moments  after  they  had  started 
for  home,  Mr.  Stuyvesant  was  silent.  Ruth  al- 
ways respected  his  moods,  knowing  that  when 
he  was  ready  to  make  any  confidences  she  would 
be  the  one  person  to  whom  he  would  turn  with 
his  troubles.  She  knew  from  long  experience 
that  all  his  troubles  originated  with  Ralph.  But 
for  the  moment  she  was  at  a  loss  to  account  for 
any  fresh  outbreak  on  her  brother's  part.  She 
had  seen  Anna  only  yesterday  and  had  con- 
gratulated herself  that  for  once  she  seemed  to 
have  no  new  complaints  to  make.  She  was  al- 
ways hoping  that  Ralph  would  at  last  settle 
down  and  become  a  comfort  and  gratification 
to  his  father. 

From  the  time  that  she  was  old  enough  to  be 
any  judge  of  character  she  had  realized  that  he 
was  lamentably  weak  and  easily  influenced.  But 


12  LIFE 

she  had  never  thought  that  he  was  inherently 
vicious.  With  the  right  sort  of  associates  he 
would  have  developed  into  the  average  type  of 
man  she  knew,  even  if  he  could  never  hope  to 
be  as  universally  respected  and  looked  up  to 
as  his  father.  Womanlike,  she  blamed  his  wife 
more  than  anyone.  If  Anna  had  had  a  shred 
of  real  force  of  character,  she  told  herself, 
things  might  have  been  different.  As  it  was, 
she  still  hoped  that  the  combined  efforts  of 
her  father,  Tom  Burnett  and  herself  might  yet 
make  a  man  of  him.  After  all,  he  was  very 
young  and  curiously  undeveloped.  In  spite  of 
the  fact  that  he  was  nine  years  the  elder,  she 
always  felt  as  if  in  some  unaccountable  manner 
the  family  records  had  been  changed  and  that 
she  herself  were  really  the  firstborn  of  the 
family. 

"You  may  congratulate  your  friend  Tom 
when  you  see  him  next,"  said  her  father  at 
length.  "He  has  been  honored  with  the  post 
of  junior  partner  in  Stuyvesant  and  Company. 
He  will  not  be  officially  appointed  before  the 
first  of  the  month,  but  there  is  no  reason  that 
his  advancement  should  be  kept  secret  from  his 
friends.  And  I  am  glad  to  say  that  he  fully  de- 
serves his  promotion,"  he  added  with  a  sigh. 

Ruth  linked  her  arm  in  that  of  her  father. 
She  understood  the  sigh.  How  humiliated  he 
must  be  at  the  thought  that  the  new  associate 
in  the  house  of  which  he  was  the  head  should 
be  an  outsider!  Never  in  the  long  and  honor- 


LIFE  13 

able  career  of  the  house  had  it  been  headed  by 
anyone  not  bearing  the  name  of  Stuyvesant. 

"I  am  glad,  particularly  if  it  will  take  any 
care  off  your  shoulders.  We  have  all  known 
Tom  so  long  that  he  seems  quite  like  one  of  our- 
selves. And  I  think  this  change  may  be  good 
for  Kalph.  Of  course,  he  will  be  humiliated. 
But  I  think  it  is  just  what  he  needs  to  bring 
him  to  his  senses.  You  know  Ralph  isn't  really 
bad  at  heart.  And  if  he  has  any  pride  this 
will  stimulate  him  to  pull  himself  together  and 
show  that  he  is  really  worth  something." 

"I  have  almost  given  up  hope,"  said  her 
father  sadly.  "But  I  agree  with  you  that  this 
lesson  may  be  the  best  he  has  ever  had.  I 
cannot  quite  free  myself  from  the  idea  that  I 
am  largely  to  blame.  I  have  been  too  liberal 
and  indulgent  with  him.  He  has  been  spoiled 
by  too  much  money.  But  money  never  spoiled 
a  Stuyvesant  before,"  he  added  proudly. 

"Yes,  I  shall  be  much  more  free,  with  Tom 
to  take  a  large  part  of  the  detail  of  the  bank 
off  my  hands.  He  has  a  good  head  and  is  as 
steady  as  a  rock.  He  will  be  the  help  and  com- 
fort that  I  had  always  hoped  my  son  would  be. 
I  sometimes  wish " 

He  stopped  and  looked  keenly  at  his  daugh- 
ter. To  her  secret  annoyance,  the  color  flooded 
Euth's  face.  Her  father,  too,  must  have  heard 
the  gossip  that  was  linking  her  name  with 
Tom's. 

"Oh,  my  little  girl,  my  little  girl,"  he  said, 


14  LIFE 

taking  her  hand  in  his,  "it  would  be  a  weight 
off  my  mind  to  know  that  after  I  am  gone 
yonr  happiness  would  be  safe  in  the  hands  of 
a  man  like  Tom!" 

"Don't,  father,  don't  talk  of  such  a  thing. 
One  would  think  that  you  were  old  and  de- 
crepit. Just  wait  a  week  or  two  till  the  boat 
race.  You'll  be  as  much  of  a  boy  as  any  of  the 
crew.  Last  year  you  acted  as  if  you  were  an 
undergraduate,"  said  Euth,  forcing  herself  to 
laugh,  although  the  quick  tears  had  come  into 
her  eyes. 

"Oh,  I  know  I'm  not  exactly  an  old  man  yet, 
and  thank  God  my  health  is  still  of  the  best! 
But  one  must  think  of  the  future.  I  didn't  in- 
tend to  speak  of  it  yet,  but  I  don't  know  of  any 
young  fellow  I  would  so  gladly  see  you  fall  in 
love  with  as  Tom  Burnett." 

"I  didn't  know  you  were  so  anxious  to  be  rid 
of  me." 

"Euth!" 

"It  certainly  looks  like  it.  You  are  making 
plans  to  marry  me  off  to  a  man  who  has  always 
been,  if  not  exactly  like  a  brother,  like  a  sort 
of  a  cousin  to  me.  Father!"  as  she  caught  the 
expression  of  his  face,  "you  don't  mean  that 
Tom  has — has  said  anything  to  you!" 

"Yes,  he  came  to  me  last  winter.  But  I  told 
him  to  wait,  that  you  were  too  young.  I 
wanted  you  to  see  a  little  of  the  world  and  so- 
ciety first.  I  didn't  intend  to  speak  of  it,  as  I 
said.  But  to-day's  business  has  sort  of  upset 


LIFE  15 

me.  And  now  that  I  have  spoken,  I  will  say 
that  it  is  the  dearest  wish  of  my  heart. " 

"But,  father,  you  wouldn't  want  me  to  marry 
a  man  I  didn't  love.  I  know  it's  old-fash- 
ioned," said  Ruth  with  a  shy  little  laugh,  "but 
I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  die  an  old  maid, 
unless  the  right  man  comes  along. ' ' 

"Of  course  I  wouldn't,  daughter.  Keep  to 
your  ' old-fashioned'  ideas,  as  you  call  them.  I 
have  too  much  confidence  in  my  little  girl  to 
think  that  she  could  ever  love  anyone  un- 
worthy." 

' '  Thank  you,  father. ' '  Ruth  leaned  over  and 
kissed  him. 

"Tell  me  one  thing,  Ruthie,  and  I'll  promise 
not  to  bring  up  the  subject  again  until  you  are 
ready  to  reopen  it.  Is  there  anyone  else?"  He 
looked  at  her  with  anxious  eyes. 

With  an  heroic  effort  Ruth  succeeded  in  hid- 
ing a  smile. 

"Yes,"  she  said  slowly,  "there  is.  I'm 
madly,  distractedly  in  love  with  a  man,  oh, 
quite  a  little  older  than  I;  in  fact,  he's  old 
enough  to  be  my  father.  And  his  name — " 
here  she  broke  into  a  peal  of  laughter  as  she 
encountered  Mr.  Stuyvesant's  glance  of  stony 
horror — "his  name  is  William  Van  Rennssel- 
aer  Stuyvesant ! ' ' 

And  as  the  automobile  stopped  in  front  of 
their  door  she  leaned  over  and  kissed  him 
again,  to  the  manifest  scandal  of  a  passing  nurs- 
erymaid. 


CHAPTER  H 

TOM  BUENETT  had  waited,  standing  on  the 
pavement,  hat  in  hand,  until  his  senior  part- 
ner's automobile  turned  the  corner,  the  smile 
which  many  people  found  so  winning  still  curv- 
ing his  lips. 

It  was  his  habit  when  he  was  not  dining  out 
and  had  a  free  evening  to  walk  uptown  to  his 
club,  partly  because  he  enjoyed  the  exercise 
and  partly  because  he  often  found  that  his 
mind  worked  more  clearly  under  the  stimulus 
of  locomotion. 

As  he  walked  along  with  his  free,  swinging 
gait,  he  was  pleasantly  conscious  of  the  covert 
glances  of  admiration  which  were  bestowed  on 
him  by  many  women  and  some  men  in  the  pass- 
ing throng.  It  was  not  only  that  he  was  a 
handsome,  upstanding  figure,  but  there  was 
something  about  his  whole  personality  that  ex- 
haled success.  Years  before,  his  shrewd  old 
grandmother  had  declared  that  she  foresaw 
that  he  would  get  anything  in  the  world  that 
he  wanted.  And  she  had  mentally  added  that 
he  would  not  be  over-scrupulous  as  to  the 
means  employed. 

It  may  have  been  that  as  he  grew  older  others 
divined  the  same  defect  in  his  character  with- 
out so  exactly  defining  it.  Possessing  all  of 

16 


LIFE  17 

the  superficial  qualities  which  make  for  popu- 
larity, he  had  passed  three  years  at  Yale  Uni- 
versity without  distinguishing  himself  in  any 
way,  and  had  left  at  the  end  of  his  junior  year 
without — if  we  except  his  friendship  for  Ralph 
Stuyvesant — having  formed  any  of  those  close 
ties  so  natural  to  his  time  of  life.  Ralph,  who 
was  two  years  his  junior,  admired  him  extrava- 
gantly and  was  greatly  flattered  at  having  been 
picked  out  for  a  friend  by  so  handsome  and 
clever  a  personage.  He  had  been  proud  to 
bring  this  attractive  young  man  home  with 
him  at  the  holidays  and  was  gratified  to  find 
his  judgment  indorsed  by  both  his  father  and 
sister,  particularly  the  former,  who  had  not 
always  in  the  past  approved  of  the  objects  of 
his  son's  sudden  friendships. 

Burnett  had  improved  these  opportunities  to 
the  utmost.  He  could  at  will  assume  an  air  of 
appealing  frankness,  which,  added  to  the  fact 
that  he  undoubtedly  was  the  possessor  of  a  fine 
mind  and  displayed  a  keen  interest  and  natural 
aptitude  for  business,  had  decided  the  elder 
Stuyvesant  to  make  him  an  offer  of  a  position 
in  his  bank,  although  he  deprecated  his  resolu- 
tion to  cut  short  his  college  career. 

But  Burnett  had  frankly  explained  that  he 
was  not  doing  so  on  any  sudden  or  uncon- 
sidered  impulse.  He  had,  it  seemed,  a  widowed 
mother  and  two  younger  sisters  living  in  a 
small  country  town  in  the  Middle  West;  and, 
while  his  mother's  slender  income  was  sufii- 


18  LIFE 

cient  for  their  present  needs,  he  not  only 
chafed  at  being  a  further  drain  on  their  re- 
sources, but  was  anxious  to  help  them  to  realize 
upon  the  investment  made  in  his  education  as 
soon  as  possible.  Then,  too,  he  pointed  out, 
unless  he  should  be  able  to  contribute  to  the 
support  of  his  sisters  by  the  time  they  should 
be  a  little  older,  they  would  be  compelled  to  do 
something  to  support  themselves. 

"So,  you  see,"  he  finished  with  his  charming 
smile,  "it's  *  up  to  me.'  " 

He  could  hardly  have  employed  an  argument 
which  would  have  appealed  more  strongly  to 
his  host.  Mr.  Stuyvesant  had  all  the  prejudices 
of  his  generation  in  favor  of  his  womankind  be- 
ing sheltered  and  protected  against  all  knowl- 
edge of  the  rough  side  of  life.  That  this  young 
man,  who  unquestionably  came  of  people  of 
breeding  and  refinement,  should  hold  similar 
views  was  a  credit  alike  to  his  heart  and  to  his 
manliness  of  character. 

And  so,  shortly  after  his  twentieth  birthday, 
Burnett  had  entered  the  great  house  of  Stuy- 
vesant and  Company. 

Once  there,  he  had  more  than  justified  his 
employer's  opinion.  There  was  no  question 
but  that  he  had  chosen  the  proper  field  for  the 
exercise  of  his  undoubted  talent  for  finance. 
At  first,  naturally,  he  saw  but  little  of  the  head 
of  the  firm.  He  was  far  too  shrewd  to  trade 
upon  the  social  side  of  their  relation.  But  from 
time  to  time  reports  of  his  industry,  his  appli- 


LIFE  19 

cation  and  his  abilities  were  brought  to  his 
gratified  patron. 

For  the  three  years  while  Ralph  was  still  at 
the  university,  and  Euth  in  the  hands  of  teach- 
ers and  governesses,  Burnett  saw  but  little  of 
the  Stuyvesant  family.  But  once  Ealph  was 
graduated — he  had  managed  to  get  through 
with  the  smallest  of  margins — and  taken  the 
place  waiting  for  him  in  the  bank,  he  began 
once  more  to  frequent  the  house,  where  he  was 
doubly  welcome  as  Ealph 's  friend  and  as  a 
young  man  of  unusual  promise. 

That  their  friendship  was  as  strong  as  ever, 
in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  elder  Stuyvesant 
was  continually  holding  up  his  protege  as  a 
shining  example  to  his  son,  was,  in  the  begin- 
ning, a  credit  both  to  Ealph 's  natural  gener- 
osity and  to  his  friend's  tact.  Later  on  there 
were  more  substantial,  if  less  creditable,  rea- 
sons for  its  continuance. 

It  had  not  taken  Tom  Burnett  three  years  to 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  even  with  his  ex- 
ceptional talents  and  the  favor  of  his  employer, 
the  direct  and  honest  road  to  wealth  and  power 
was  too  long  for  a  man  of  his  extravagant 
tastes  and  ambitions.  He  had  made  up  his 
mind  when  hardly  more  than  a  lad  that  wealth 
and  power  he  would  have,  and  that,  too,  while 
he  was  still  young  enough  to  enjoy  them  to  the 
full.  That  there  were  men  well  under  middle- 
age  who  were  great  figures  in  the  financial 
world  he  very  well  knew. 


20  LIFE 

But  in  studying  their  careers  he  had  almost 
invariably  been  confronted  with  the  fact  that 
they  had  been  the  fortunate  possessors  of  what 
to  him  seemed  modest  fortunes  to  begin  with. 
The  day  had  gone  by,  he  told  himself,  when 
poor  men  could  become  millionaires  by  talent 
and  industry  alone.  There  were  too  many  com- 
petitors with  an  equal  amount  of  talent  and  in- 
dustry plus  capital.  Things  being  equal,  he 
would  have  preferred  to  be  honest.  But  hon- 
esty was  a  luxury  which  the  struggling  poor 
man  could  not  afford  until  after  he  had  reached 
his  goal  or  saw  himself  well  on  the  way  to  it. 
Many  a  man  was  held  in  the  highest  respect 
whose  business  ethics  would  hardly  have  con- 
formed to  old-fashioned  standards.  Times  had 
changed.  Success  was  the  only  criterion.  The 
difference  between  being  known  as  a  ''sharp" 
man  of  business  and  a  dishonest  one  was  only 
the  difference  between  success  and  failure. 
That  was  the  thing  in  a  nutshell.  It  was  with 
such  sophistries  as  these  that  he  lulled  the  voice 
of  a  never  very  active  conscience. 

But  he  intended  to  "play  safe."  To  do 
otherwise  was  to  confess  to  being  a  fool.  And 
the  safest  game  for  him  was  to  involve  Ralph 
in  any  of  the  numerous  little  "enterprises" 
which  already  teemed  in  his  busy,  active,  spider 
brain.  Ralph  would  always  be  an  anchor  to 
windward.  If  things  went  wrong — and  the  per- 
centage against  their  doing  so  was  all  in  his 
favor — the  only  son  of  the  head  of  the  firm 


LIFE  21 

would  be  as  much  involved  as  he.  He  had  care- 
fully cultivated  the  acquaintance  of  a  young 
stockbroker  by  the  name  of  Davidson,  a  mem- 
ber of  an  old  and  reputable  firm,  who,  however 
shrewd  he  might  be  in  a  business  way,  he  found 
singularly  gullible  in  all  matters  not  pertain- 
ing to  the  affairs  of  his  office. 

He  had  been  at  no  small  pains  to  ingratiate 
himself  with  this  youth,  whom  he  found  sus- 
ceptible to  flattery  to  an  almost  laughable  de- 
gree. Like  so  many  of  his  kind,  he  considered 
himself  a  full-fledged  man-of-the-world  and  a 
keen  judge  of  character.  Naturally  he  was  clay 
in  the  hands  of  a  clever  and  unscrupulous  man 
like  Burnett. 

It  had  been  an  easy  thing  to  fill  his  ears  with 
the  story  of  some  rich  maiden  aunts  in  the 
West,  who  had  a  mania  for  speculation.  It 
would,  of  course,  be  a  simple  matter  for  their 
favorite  nephew  to  throw  their  business  where 
he  chose.  And  there  was  nowhere  he  would 
rather  throw  it  than  to  Davidson,  Post  and 
Davidson.  Only  the  younger  Davidson  must 
see  to  it  that  his  friend  did  not  appear  in  any 
of  the  transactions.  While  it  was  true  that 
nearly  everyone  speculated  nowadays,  even 
the  safest  ventures  were  barred  to  the  em- 
ployees of  Stuyvesant  and  Company.  Old  man 
Stuyvesant  would  have  a  blue  fit  if  it  came  to 
his  ears  that  any  of  them  had  anything  to  do 
with  the  market.  Later  on,  when  certain  con- 
templated changes  took  place — and  Tom  had 


22  LIFE 

known  how  to  hint  unmistakably  that  the  con- 
templated changes  included  his  own  promotion 
— things  would  be  different.  But  for  the 
present 

Davidson  had  agreed  to  guarantee  the  ut- 
most secrecy  and  Tom  had  begun  to  speculate 
cautiously  and  in  a  small  way,  which  was  a 
credit  to  the  discretion  of  the  rich  aunts.  Be- 
ginner's luck  is  proverbial.  Burnett  was  no 
exception  to  the  rule.  He  was  too  cool-headed 
to  lose  his  point  of  view  over  his  first  successes, 
and  all  might  have  gone  well  if  he  could  have 
equally  kept  his  head  over  the  matter  of  his 
personal  expenditures.  But  his  greatest  weak- 
ness was  for  women.  And  a  woman  was  his 
undoing. 

It  was  during  his  first  term  at  college  that 
Fate  crossed  his  path  in  the  shape  of  Grace 
Andrews,  the  daughter  of  the  trainer  of  the 
crew.  Little  more  than  a  child  in  years — she 
was  barely  fifteen — she  already  gave  promise 
of  developing  into  unusual  beauty,  with  her 
wonderful  dark  eyes,  her  scarlet  lips  and  her 
creamy  skin.  At  first  Burnett,  like  all  the  mem- 
bers of  the  crew  and  the  men  interested  in  boat- 
ing, who  spent  a  large  part  of  their  spare  time 
around  the  training  quarters,  treated  her  like  a 
child,  teasing  her  and  spoiling  her  by  turns. 
But  gradually  it  began  to  dawn  upon  him  that 
she  was  as  unusual  in  character  as  in  appear- 
ance. 

Whether  or  not  it  was  some  deep-seated  pre- 


LIFE  23 

disposition  to  evil  in  her  nature  that  responded 
to  a  like  quality  in  his,  their  relation  was  al- 
most from  the  beginning  entirely  different  from 
that  which  existed  between  her  and  the  clean- 
limbed, clean-minded  boys  who  made  up  the 
various  crews  and  their  substitutes,  at  once  the 
pride  and  the  torment  of  old  Tom  Andrews  and 
his  fat,  good-natured  wife. 

To  all  outward  appearances,  Gracie  treated 
them  all  alike,  chaffing  them  and  being  plagued 
by  them  in  turn,  calling  them  all  familiarly  by 
their  first  names  or  nicknames;  now  siding 
with  them,  now  with  her  mother  in  the  warfare 
that  was  constantly  waged  between  them.  For 
these  light-hearted  lads,  full  to  overflowing 
with  animal  spirits,  delighted  in  deviling 
"Mother"  Andrews  almost  more  than  they  did 
her  daughter;  while  she,  for  her  part,  would 
have  felt  that  her  occupation  was  gone  if  she 
did  not  have  them  to  scold  and  abuse. 

But  when  Gracie  and  Tom  Burnett  were 
alone  together  her  manner  altered  completely. 
The  romping  hoyden  vanished  and  she  became 
thoughtful,  even  grave.  No  one  seeing  her  for 
the  first  time  in  this  mood  would  ever  have 
dreamed  of  splashing  her  with  water  or  pulling 
her  long,  thick  braids  of  hair.  The  first  time 
Burnett  had  encountered  this  attitude  he  had 
met  it  with  a  mocking  air  of  deference,  which, 
however,  had  not  survived  the  girl's  first 
speech. 

1 '  Heavens ! ' '  she  said  scornfully.    '  *  I  thought 


24  LIFE 

I  was  talking  to  a  man.  But  I  see  you  are  really 
as  much  a  child  as  the  others." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  considerably 
taken  back,  "but  how  is  one  to  know  how  to 
take  you?  I  promise  not  to  be  so  stupid  again. 
But,  in  self-defense,  let  me  remind  you  that  it 
is  hardly  five  minutes  since  you  were  chas- 
ing Phil  Painter  round  the  house  with  the 
broom." 

"  And  what  if  I  was?  I  tell  you  they're  all 
children,  every  one  of  them.  And  I  let  them 
treat  me  as  if  I  were  only  a  child  for  a  reason. 
Father  and  mother  are  too  simple  to  realize 
that  I've  really  ' grown  up.'  Why,  I'll  be  six- 
teen my  next  birthday.  Mother  was  married 
when  she  was  only  a  little  older  than  I ! " 

"You  surely  don't  want  to  get  married  yet." 

"Married ! ' '  She  flashed  him  a  look  from  her 
great  black  eyes.  "I  should  think  not.  Be- 
sides, who  is  there  for  me  to  marry?  Joe 
Hampton,  the  coach?"  Her  laugh  was  cu- 
riously hard.  "No,"  she  went  on  soberly,  "I 
have  no  idea  of  getting  married.  But  I  do  in- 
tend to  get  away  from  this  hole  just  as  soon  as 
I  can.  Don't  you  think  there's  a  place  for  a 
girl,  a  girl  like  me,  in  New  York?" 

She  faced  him  with  a  smile  so  frankly  cynical 
that  he  could  only  relieve  his  feelings  by  a  long 
whistle. 

"That  the  child  of  Tom  and  old  Mother  An- 
drews!" he  said  to  himself  on  the  way  back  to 
his  room.  "Then  she's  a  changeling.  If  her 


LIFE  2^ 

father 'd  seen  that  smile — well,  he'd  commit 
murder  or  I  don't  know  him." 

He  did  not  see  her  again  for  over  a  week. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  she  had  frightened  him. 
He  told  himself  more  than  once  that  she 
couldn't  have  meant  what  he  had  thought.  But 
in  his  secret  heart  he  knew  better.  He  cau- 
tiously sounded  the  other  fellows  to  see  if  the 
idea  that  Gracie  was  anything  more  than  an 
unsophisticated  child  had  ever  occurred  to  any 
of  them.  It  hadn't.  Apparently  he  had  been 
the  only  person  to  whom  she  had  ever  given  a 
hint  of  her  real  ambitions. 

Partly  because  he  was  a  little  flattered  and 
partly  because  she  intrigued  his  curiosity,  he 
sought  an  opportunity  to  talk  to  her  again  at 
the  end  of  the  second  week.  No,  he  had  not 
been  mistaken. 

Certainly  she  had  the  virtue  of  frankness. 
Her  philosophy  of  life,  her  plans  for  the  fu- 
ture, her  determination  to  succeed  in  wresting 
from  the  world  the  things  that  she  could  never 
honestly  hope  to  have,  were  disclosed  with  a 
coolness  that  took  away  his  breath.  She  made 
him  feel  as  if  he  were  a  perfect  infant  in 
worldly  knowledge.  The  only  thing  he  could! 
never  discover  was  the  sources  of  her  extraor- 
dinary information. 

He  ended  by  admiring  her  enormously  and 
fearing  her  almost  as  much.  He  would  have 
been  surprised  to  discover  that  she  was  fully 
aware  of  both  these  tributes.  And  while  he 


26  LIFE 

was  about  her  father's  quarters  as  much  as 
ever,  he  was  circumspection  itself  as  far  as  his 
conduct  with  the  daughter  of  the  house  was 
concerned.  He,  too,  had  his  formula  of  worldly 
wisdom.  He  could  not  risk  a  scandal  at  the 
outset  of  his  career.  On  the  whole,  they  under- 
stood each  other  pretty  well. 

"Perhaps  I'll  run  across  you  some  day 
again  when  you  are  rich  and  famous,"  he  said 
to  her  at  their  last  meeting  before  he  was  to 
leave  college. 

"Y-e-s,  and  perhaps  sooner,"  she  said  with 
her  mocking  smile.  "If  you  get  on  as  fast  as 
you  ought."  Which  reply  left  him  far  from 
happy. 

From  time  to  time  after  coming  to  New  York 
he  had  sent  her  small  gifts  of  candy  and  such 
trifles  as  picture  post  cards.  But  aside  from 
prim  notes  of  thanks  which  he  was  sure  she 
first  showed  to  her  mother,  she  never  wrote. 
There  came  a  time  when  even  these  unsatisfac- 
tory responses  were  not  forthcoming.  Then 
Ralph  had  mentioned  casually  in  one  of  his 
frequent  letters  begging  for  a  loan  to  pay  some 
uncomfortably  pressing  debt  that  Mrs.  An- 
drews had  asked  him  to  let  Burnett  know  that 
Gracie  was  "away  to  a  young  ladies'  school," 
and  that  unless  he  wanted  to  make  her  mother 
fatter  than  ever,  he  must  send  no  more  candy. 

And  then  one  morning,  the  year  after  Ralph's 
graduation,  a  letter  had  arrived  for  Burnett  by 
special  delivery  containing  a  peremptory  com- 


LIFE  27 

mand  for  him  to  meet  the  7.00  P.M.  train  from 
Philadelphia,  signed  "Grace  Andrews."  The 
gentleman  thus  honored  had  sworn  fervidly 
and  vowed  that  he  would  do  nothing  of  the 
kind.  He  had  never  heard  of  such  cheek. 

But  he  was  at  the  Pennsylvania  station  ten 
minutes  before  the  time.  Curiosity  had  con- 
quered. He  did  want  to  see  what  she  was  like. 
But  his  most  ardent  expectations  fell  far  short 
of  the  actuality.  She  came  toward  him  down 
the  long  platform  with  her  unforgettable  smile, 
so  radiantly  beautiful,  so  tastefully  and  becom- 
ingly dressed,  that  she  was  the  center  of  all  ad- 
miring glances. 

"There  wasn't  a  woman  in  the  place  that 
didn't  look  like  a  washerwoman  beside  her," 
was  Tom's  inward  comment. 

He  forgot  all  his  irritation  of  the  morning, 
aroused  by  her  letter.  By  the  time  their  taxi 
drew  up  in  front  of  the  fashionable  restaurant, 
where  he  had  elected  to  dine,  he  felt  that  he 
had  been  looking  forward  to  this  moment  for 
years,  and  almost  cheated  himself  into  believ- 
ing that  it  was  true. 

As  he  sat  gazing  at  her  across  the  table  and 
watched  her  slowly  and  languidly  draw  off  her 
gloves  he  wondered  how  he  had  ever  wasted 
an  hour  on  any  of  the  numerous  women  who, 
from  time  to  time,  had  seemed  to  him  desirable. 
Why,  there  wasn't  a  woman  in  New  York 
to  be  compared  with  her.  He  could  tell,  before 
they  had  finished  the  hors  d  'ceuvre,  that  she  had 


28  LIFE 

made  a  sensation,  and  that,  too,  in  a  resort 
noted  for  its  beautiful  women. 

And  how  and  where  did  old  Tom  Andrews' 
daughter  acquire  that  air  of  distinction  and 
learn  to  move  with  such  grace?  He  remem- 
bered that  he  had  once  thought  of  her  as  a 
changeling.  He  was  more  convinced  of  it  than 
ever.  And  how  she  had  more  than  fulfilled  the 
rich  promise  of  her  childhood! 

All  this,  and  more,  he  poured  out  to  her  in 
accents  of  unmistakable  sincerity.  He  could 
hardly  tear  his  eyes  from  her  face  long  enough 
to  make  a  pretense  of  eating  the  various  courses 
as  they  were  set  before  him.  Still,  fascinated 
as  he  was,  that  part  of  his  cold  and  calculating 
brain,  which  was  always  on  guard,  told  him  to 
go  warily.  It  was  curious  how,  once  more  under 
the  spell  of  her  dominating  personality,  the 
old  fear  awoke.  Not  for  a  moment  did  he 
have  an  illusion  that  he  was  in  danger  of  fall- 
ing in  love  with  her.  He  would  never  love  any- 
one. He  was  not  that  sort,  any  more  than  the 
woman  opposite  him  was  the  sort  of  woman  to 
inspire  love.  Men  would  long  for  her;  they 
might  dare  much  to  possess  her.  He  felt  for 
the  moment  that  he  would  go  to  great  lengths 
himself  while  that  flowerlike  face  bloomed 
across  from  his,  when  he  met  the  kindling 
glance  of  those  wonderful  eyes. 

In  the  meantime,  if  Grace  shared  his  excite- 
ment, she  was  sufficiently  self -controlled  not  to 
show  any  trace  of  it.  She  accepted  his  rhap- 


LIFE  29 

sodies  graciously,  but  her  manner  suggested 
that  she  considered  them  a  necessary  concomi- 
tant to  a  dinner  at  which  she  was  the  guest. 
But  secretly  she  was  exultant.  She  was  more 
than  ever  convinced  that  the  plan  of  campaign 
she  had  chosen  had  been  the  right  one.  How 
she  had  had  to  fight  with  herself  during  these 
last  few  years  to  keep  from  coming  to  New 
York  sooner.  But  ambition  had  been  a  wise 
counselor. 

She  saw  what  her  career  would  have  been 
had  she  yielded  to  impulse  and  made  her 
debut  as  so  many  girls  did,  trusting  to  their 
looks  alone  to  make  their  fortunes.  Would  a 
man  like  Tom  Burnett  have  brought  her  to  a 
restaurant  like  this,  however  pretty  she  was, 
if  she  had  come  to  him  directly  from  her 
father's  home!  The  simple  village  maid  was 
all  very  well  in  poetry  and  fiction.  But  Grace 
was  too  instinctively  worldly-wise  to  take  any 
stock  in  her  in  reality. 

With  the  swift,  appraising  glance  which 
women  give,  she  took  in  the  women  about  her. 
Many  of  them  were  pretty  and  distinguished 
and  all  of  them  were  beautifully  dressed.  But 
she  comfortably  reflected  that  she  did  not  suffer 
by  comparison  with  any  one  of  them.  Her  trav- 
eling dress  was  becoming  and  in  the  best  taste, 
and  there  wasn't  a  woman  who  approached  her 
for  looks.  Yes,  the  time  she  had  devoted  to 
preparation  had  been  well  employed. 

"How  could  you  have  been  so  cruel  as  to 


30  LIFE 

keep  me  waiting  for  you  so  long  without  ever 
a  word,"  said  Burnett  huskily,  as  he  watched 
her  sipping  her  coffee.  "  Didn't  you  remem- 
ber that  I  told  you  I  would  be  waiting  for  you? ' ' 

"No,"  she  said  with  her  dazzling  smile,  "I 
don't  quite  remember  that.  I  seem  to  recall 
that  you  said  you  might  run  across  me — if  I 
were  successful." 

"You  knew  I  didn't  mean  that." 

"Then  you  find  me — satisfactory?  My  ap- 
pearance does  you  credit?" 

"You  are  the  most  beautiful  creature  I  ever 
saw  in  my  life!  But  you  always  were,  and  I 
told  you  so  long  ago." 

"Y-e-s.  Still,  if  I  had  arrived  unexpectedly 
a  year  or  two  ago,  I  don 't  think  you  would  have 
brought  me  here.  We  would  probably  have 
gone  to  one  of  Childs'  places.  I  can  see  you 
taking  a  raw  country  girl  to  a  place  like  this." 

"Nonsense!  But  tell  me  a  little  about  your- 
self and  your  plans." 

"There's  not  much  to  tell.  I've  been  work- 
ing hard — yes,  really.  Father  and  mother 
think  that  I  have  had  an  offer  of  a  good  posi- 
tion here  in  New  York  as  a  stenographer.  Of 
course,  they  wanted  me  to  stay  at  home,  but  I 
have  persuaded  them  to  let  me  try  it.  As  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  I  am  depending  on  you  for  a  help- 
ing hand — just  at  first." 

She  smilingly  showed  him  her  purse,  which 
held  a  few  crumpled  bills  and  some  loose  silver. 

"Twelve  dollars  and  sixty-five  cents  is  all  I 


LIFE  31 

have  left.  And  I  have  two  other  gowns,  only 
fairly  presentable." 

" Don't  bother  your  head  about  that,"  he 
said. 

Standing  before  the  mirror  in  the  drawing- 
room  of  a  little  suite  in  a  quiet,  old-fashioned 
hotel,  Grace  slowly  took  off  her  hat.  In  spite 
of  his  stormy  protests,  Tom  had  had  to  content 
himself  with  a  kiss  bestowed  on  him  in  the  dis- 
creet shelter  of  the  taxi.  He  was  to  be  per- 
mitted to  have  tea  with  his  divinity  on  the  fol- 
lowing afternoon,  and  perhaps  take  her  to  din- 
ner in  some  quiet  place.  Miss  Andrews  had 
no  idea  of  showing  herself  in  public  again  with- 
out a  suitable  costume. 

Before  undressing  she  took  a  little  roll  of 
bills  from  the  inside  of  her  waist.  She 
smoothed  them  out  carefully  before  locking 
them  securely  away  in  her  trunk.  There  were 
five  of  them — five  one  hundred  dollar  bills. 
Somehow  she  had  forgotten  them  when  making 
the  inventory  of  her  worldly  possessions !  She 
yawned  lazily  like  a  cat  before  putting  out  the 
light. 

" Things  are  starting  well,"  she  said  to  her- 
self. And  then,  with  a  laugh,  * '  I  wonder  what 
he  said  when  my  letter  came?" 


CHAPTER  m 

BY  the  end  of  the  month  Grace,  who  had  as- 
sumed the  style  and  title  of  "Mrs.  Andrews," 
was  established  in  an  old-fashioned,  little  apart- 
ment in  one  of  the  oldest  apartment  houses  in 
the  city,  situated  just  off  Fifth  Avenue  not  far 
from  Washington  Square. 

The  household  consisted  of  a  Frenchwoman 
of  middle-age,  a  really  remarkable  cook,  who 
was  also  maid  of  all  work,  and,  to  Burnett's 
intense  amusement,  of  an  elderly  woman,  a 
Mrs.  Watson,  who  was  a  sort  of  duenna  and 
companion.  The  latter  lady  seemed  to  be  the 
victim  of  chronic  headaches.  At  least  she  al- 
ways suffered  from  them  when  they  dined  at 
home  and  never  appeared  at  the  table.  What 
she  was  supposed  to  do  at  other  times  was  a 
mystery.  She  had  come  on  from  Philadelphia 
at  the  summons  of  her  employer.  Grace  had 
explained  rather  vaguely  that  it  was  more 
prudent  to  have  her,  and  had  added  that  as  she 
was  wonderfully  clever  with  her  needle,  she 
more  than  paid  for  herself  by  keeping  her  cos- 
tumes in  order. 

Tom  accepted  this  statement  with  reserva- 
tions. In  his  own  phrase,  Grace  "kept  him 
guessing."  That  she  never  did  anything  with- 
out a  purpose,  he  was  convinced.  But  her  mo- 


LIFE  33 

fives  for  many  things  were  unfathomable.  For 
instance,  she  insisted  on  maintaining  the  fiction 
that  all  the  money  he  gave  her  was  merely  a 
loan.  He  was,  of  course,  paying  the  rent  of  the 
apartment  and  the  current  expenses.  These 
items  at  the  end  of  each  month  Grace  solemnly 
inscribed  in  a  small  leather-backed  book  which 
already  contained  the  cost  of  the  furnishings 
and  the  amount  he  had  deposited  in  her  name 
in  an  uptown  bank. 

When,  after  some  months,  he  had  ventured 
to  suggest  that  he  thought  the  joke  a  little 
played  out,  she  had  flown  into  a  furious  pas- 
sion, had  told  him  that  he  was  a  coarse  brute 
and  ordered  him  out  of  the  house.  And  for 
nearly  a  week  madame  was  invisible  when  he 
called.  That  taught  him  a  lesson.  He  found 
that  it  was  permitted  to  offer  her  jewels,  furs 
and  even  costumes;  but  money,  never.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  Grace  had  seized  this  oppor- 
tunity to  make  a  scene  in  order  to  get  away  for 
a  few  days.  She  had  not  been  home  for  over 
a  year,  and  she  wanted  to  satisfy  herself  that 
her  parents  had  no  suspicion  that  her  story  of 
employment  in  New  York  was  anything  but  the 
truth.  It  would  have  been  perfectly  simple  to 
have  told  Tom  that  she  was  going  to  see  her 
parents,  but  for  some  reason,  which  it  would 
have  puzzled  her  to  define,  she  shrank  from 
ever  mentioning  them  to  her  lover.  At  the 
bottom  of  her  heart  she  still  cared  for  them 
too  much  not  to  wish  to  screen  them  from  the 


34  LIFE 

pain  and  horror  that  would  be  theirs,  once  they 
knew  the  life  she  was  living.  Besides,  she  had 
a  genuine  fear  of  her  father.  Simple  and 
kindly  as  he  was,  she  knew  how  jealous  he  was 
of  his  good  name.  She  might  argue  to  herself 
that  this  was  a  new  age  for  women,  that  the 
day  had  dawned  when  every  woman  had  a  right 
to  live  her  own  life  as  men  had  always  done, 
but  she  would  never  have  dared  to  advance  such 
theories  to  him. 

The  useful  Mrs.  Watson  had  been  dispatched 
the  morning  following  the  quarrel  to  buy  a 
simple,  ready-made  dress  and  a  few  little  in- 
expensive gifts  for  the  old  people,  and  Grace 
had  departed,  leaving  her  instructions  for  the 
disciplining  of  Burnett. 

She  was  thoroughly  glad  to  be  home  again 
for  a  few  days.  Also  it  gave  her  an  oppor- 
tunity to  think  things  over  a  little,  as  somehow 
she  didn't  seem  to  be  able  to  do  in  New  York. 
Years  afterwards  she  realized  that  it  was  dur- 
ing this  visit  she  had  come  to  the  decision 
that  was  to  shape  her  future.  If  she  had  fol- 
lowed her  first  and  better  impulse,  not  only 
her  own  life,  but  the  lives  of  those  for  whom 
she  still  had  a  genuine  affection,  might  not 
have  been  darkened  by  unhappiness  and  shame. 

For  Tom  wanted  to  marry  her.  After  six 
months  he  was,  if  possible,  more  infatuated 
with  her  than  ever.  He,  too,  had  been  thinking 
things  over.  At  one  time  he  had  had  other 
plans,  to  be  sure.  He  intended  to  marry  some 


LIFE  35 

girl  whose  money  and  position  could  further 
his  ambitions.  But  the  weakest  point  in  Tom 
Burnett's  armor  was  his  proneness  to  self- 
indulgence.  He  had  so  long  been  in  the  habit  of 
convincing  himself  that  the  thing  he  wanted  to 
do  was  the  wisest  and  best  that  it  was  an  easy 
matter  to  persuade  himself  that  in  marrying 
his  mistress  he  would  be  doing  a  sensible  and 
even  politic  thing.  The  question  of  morality, 
naturally,  never  bothered  him. 

And  Grace  had  completely  subjugated  him, 
not  only  by  her  beauty,  but  by  her  cleverness 
and  tact.  Her  taste  was  unerring.  He  had 
learned  much  himself  from  contact  with  the 
cultivated  rich.  And  he  had  expected  to  find, 
in  spite  of  the  years  spent  in  finishing  herself, 
that  many  of  her  ideas  were  crude  and  vulgar. 

But  after  inspecting  the  apartment  she  had 
chosen,  and  particularly  after  seeing  it  filled, 
but  not  crowded,  with  a  number  of  good  pieces, 
evidencing  not  only  a  sound  discrimination,  but 
a  fine  sense  of  appropriateness,  the  last  hesi- 
tations, born  of  the  counsels  of  worldly  pru- 
dence, vanished. 

Like  many  people  who  pride  themselves  on 
their  shrewdness,  Burnett  made  the  not  un- 
common error  of  never  crediting  others  with 
an  equal  amount  of  that  useful  commodity. 
He  would  have  been  not  a  little  astonished  if 
he  had  known  that  Mrs.  Watson's  usefulness 
was  not  confined  to  the  gentle  art  of  needle- 
work, and  that  it  was  owing  entirely  to  her  ad- 


36  LIFE 

vice  and  direction  that  Grace's  natural  inclina- 
tion toward  the  flamboyant,  both  in  personal 
attire  and  in  the  furnishings  of  her  apartment, 
were  kept  in  check. 

In  short,  Grace's  natural  taste  was  exactly 
what  one  would  have  expected  from  her  par- 
entage and  upbringing.  But  she  had  inherited 
also  an  active  and  eager  mind.  She  was  more 
than  willing  to  learn,  and  she  was  as  imitative 
as  a  Japanese. 

The  tie  which  bound  these  two  women  to- 
gether was  purely  a  business  one.  Their  meet- 
ing several  years  before  had  been  accidental. 
But  each  had  recognized  it  as  a  fortunate 
chance.  At  sixty,  Mrs.  Watson  was  bankrupt, 
both  in  money  and  in  reputation.  It  was  plain 
that  she  had  had  the  early  advantages  of  breed- 
ing and  education,  in  addition  to  which,  out  of 
the  abysmal  experiences  of  her  later  life,  she 
was  able  to  give  sound  advice.  She  cleverly 
anticipated  any  question  as  to  how,  with  her 
knowledge  and  ability,  she  had  managed  to 
make  such  a  mess  of  her  own  life  by  posing  as 
a  Horrible  Warning  rather  than  as  a  Shining 
Example.  On  the  subject  of  her  birth  and 
family  she  was  a  sphinx.  No  one  knew  any- 
thing as  to  her  childhood,  not  even  where  she 
came  from.  She  summarized  her  later  career 
by  declaring  that  she  had  been  a  fool  in  letting 
her  heart  betray  her  head,  of  which  romantic 
phrase  she  was  secretly  rather  proud. 

While  Grace  felt  that  as  an  explanation  of 


LIFE  37 

the  disasters  covering  a  tolerably  long  period 
<*f  time  it  was  somewhat  inadequate,  leaving, 
as  it  did,  so  much  to  be  supplied  by  the  im- 
agination, she  recognized  that  fundamentally  it 
was  the  true  one. 

Mrs.  Watson  was  incurably  sentimental  and 
emotional.  She  never  failed  to  attend  perform- 
ances of  "La  Dame  aux  Camelias"  and  plays 
of  similar  character,  where  she  abandoned  her- 
self to  lachrymations  so  exhausting  as  to  neces- 
sitate spending  the  entire  following  day  in  bed. 
Such  sentimental  orgies  were  the  greatest 
pleasures  which  her  life  afforded. 

But  this  weakness  did  not  interfere  with  her 
usefulness  to  her  friend  or  prevent  her  being 
keenly  alive  to  her  own  best  interests.  No 
doubt  it  was  because  her  too  susceptible  heart 
was  only  vicariously  involved  in  Grace's  "ro- 
mance. ' ' 

At  all  events,  from  the  moment  that  Grace 
had  confided  to  her  that  Tom  was  ready  to 
legalize  their  relation,  Mrs.  Watson  opposed 
it  with  every  argument  she  could  invent,  at 
least  for  the  present.  She  darkly  hinted  that 
a  too  precipitate  marriage  had  been  the  first 
step  in  her  own  undoing.  She  pointed  out  that 
Grace  was  still  in  the  first  flush  of  her  beauty 
and  fascination.  There  was  plenty  of  time. 
There  was  no  earthly  reason  why  Burnett 
should  not  be  equally  eager  for  the  marriage 
six  months  or  a  year  hence.  In  the  meantime 
one  could  look  round.  The  thing  to  do  was  to 


38  LIFE 

make  him  introduce  her  to  some  of  his  men 
friends.  If  half  the  stories  he  told  them  were 
true,  he  was  by  way  of  meeting  some  of  the 
most  prominent  men  in  the  world  of  finance 
every  day.  What  if  he  became  jealous? 
Heavens !  So  much  the  better. 

It  was  impossible  to  foresee  how  Grace  was 
going  to  be  affected  by  all  this  eloquence. 
Mrs.  Watson  understood  perfectly  well  that 
the  visit  to  her  old  home  was  half  a  pretext  to 
get  away  by  herself  and  perhaps  come  to  a 
decision.  At  the  worst,  she  was  sure  that  she 
could  delay  matters  for  a  few  months  at  least. 
Grace  was  both  vain  and  avaricious.  Natu- 
rally, to  one  brought  up  as  she  had  been,  her 
present  scale  of  expenditure  must  seem  little 
short  of  magnificent.  From  now  on  they  must 
branch  out.  If  Burnett  did  not  balk — well, 
then,  let  Grace  marry  him  in  a  year's  time,  if 
she  were  fool  enough.  By  that  time  the  ex- 
cellent Mrs.  Watson  never  doubted  that  she 
could  feather  her  own  nest  sufficiently  to  tide 
her  over  until  she  was  able  to  obtain  another 
position.  In  the  end,  it  was  Burnett  himself 
who  played  into  her  hands. 

Grace  had  returned  fully  determined  to 
marry  him.  She  thought  that  she  had  reached 
her  decision  by  weighing  things  coldly  and  dis- 
passionately. Tom  was  just  at  the  outset  of 
his  career,  to  be  sure,  but  after  all  he  was 
genuinely  in  love  with  her  and  he  had  cer- 
tainly shown  himself  to  be  most  generous. 


LIFE  39 

With  Ms  talents  and  ambition,  and  with  her  at 
his  side  continually  to  spur  him  on,  there  was 
nothing  that  they  might  not  hope  for.  And  to 
have  a  great  position  in  the  world,  with  all  the 
money  and  power  that  that  entailed,  was  a  stake 
worth  playing  for.  It  fairly  dazzled  her  to 
think  of  it. 

And  they  would  be  perfectly  safe,  thanks  to 
Mrs.  Watson's  discretion.  Grace  gratefully  ac- 
knowledged to  herself  her  indebtedness.  It  was 
entirely  owing  to  her  that  the  quiet  apartment 
and  the  good  neighborhood  had  been  selected. 
And  it  was  she  who  had  managed  to  spread  the 
report  through  the  house  that  the  beautiful 
tenant  was  a  rich,  young  widow  whose  grief  for 
the  loss  of  her  elderly  husband  was  beginning 
to  be  softened  after  two  years  of  mourning. 
No,  their  future  need  not  be  darkened  by  the 
fear  of  any  old  scandal  coming  out  of  the  past. 

On  the  night  of  her  return  she  wrote  Tom  a 
playful  little  note,  indicating  that  he  might  once 
more  hope  to  be  restored  to  favor  if  he  showed 
himself  properly  contrite  at  dinner  the  next 
night.  He  was  to  call  for  her  at  seven. 

But  half  after  seven  found  Grace,  more 
beautiful  than  ever  in  a  most  becoming  new 
gown,  already  beginning  to  be  annoyed  at  her 
lover's  lack  of  punctuality.  During  the  next 
hour  she  passed  from  violent  temper  to  a 
whimpering  anxiety  for  fear  some  accident  had 
befallen  him.  But  when,  at  a  quarter  after  ten, 
a  messenger  arrived  with  a  curt  note,  explain- 


40  LIFE 

ing  that  owing  to  the  fact  that  some  out-of-town 
friends  had  arrived,  he  would  not  be  able  to 
take  her  to  dinner,  nor,  indeed,  see  her  for 
several  days,  she  gave  way  to  an  hysterical  rage 
that  if  it  didn't  frighten  a  veteran  like  Mrs. 
Watson,  at  least  made  her  piously  thankful  that 
the  house  was  sufficiently  old-fashioned  to  have 
thick  walls.  It  would  have  taxed  even  her  in- 
genuity to  have  explained  away  the  distracted 
"widow's"  language. 

When  at  last  Grace  had  smashed  most  of  the 
perishable  things  within  reach  and,  completely 
exhausted,  had  let  herself  be  put  to  bed,  Mrs. 
Watson  sat  down  to  her  own  spoiled  dinner 
with  an  expression  that  was  positively  beatific. 
Verily,  the  stars  in  their  courses  were  fighting 
for  her.! 

For  two  days  the  mistress  of  the  establish- 
ment stormed  and  sulked  by  turns.  At  one 
moment  she  was  furiously  jealous  of  the  un- 
known woman — for,  of  course,  it  was  a  woman 
— who  threatened  her  supremacy;  at  the  next 
she  was  dully  resentful  at  being  disciplined  like 
a  naughty  child. 

Had  she  been  at  all  given  to  self-analysis, 
she  would  have  realized  that  her  resolution  to 
marry  Tom  had  had  its  origin  solely  in  the  fact 
that  she  was  as  much  in  love  with  him  as  it 
was  possible  for  a  woman  of  her  selfish  nature 
to  be,  and  not,  as  she  flattered  herself,  in  any 
well-thought-out  plan. 

Mrs.  Watson  was  too  experienced  la  hus- 


LIFE  41 

bandman  not  to  recognize  that  the  ground  was 
plowed  for  the  sowing.  By  the  time  Burnett 
returned  at  the  end  of  the  week,  she  had  suc- 
ceeded in  persuading  her  companion  to  follow 
her  advice  in  every  particular. 

When  he  arrived,  bearing  a  peace  offering  in 
the  shape  of  a  bouquet  of  costly  orchids,  he 
found  Grace  in  one  of  her  most  puzzling  moods. 
All  through  dinner — they  had  chosen  one  of 
the  quieter  restaurants,  where  the  noisy  Broad- 
way crowd  never  came — she  was  her  most  mis- 
chievous and  provoking  self,  teasing,  alluring, 
enticing  and  ridiculing  him;  one  moment  as 
naive  as  a  schoolgirl,  the  next  cynically  witty. 

But  with  the  arrival  of  the  coffee  and  liquors 
all  her  gayety  vanished.  Looking  up  sud- 
denly, Burnett  was  startled  to  find  her  gazing 
at  him  with  tear-brimmed  eyes. 

"Why,  Grace,  my  darling,  what  is  the  mat- 
ter?" 

It  was  nothing,  it  seemed.  She  was  sorry. 
Only — only  for  the  moment  she  really  couldn't 
help  it.  She  had  cried  so  much  lately. 
She  was  a  little  unstrung,  that  was  all.  He 
mustn  't  mind.  She  promised  not  to  make  such 
an  exhibition  of  herself  again.  And  under  the 
table  she  convulsively  returned  the  pressure  of 
Ms  hand. 

It  was  then  that  he  realized  what  a  brute  he 
had  been.  After  all,  clever  and  worldly  as  she 
was  in  most  ways,  at  heart  she  was  only  a  child. 
He  ought  to  have  remembered  that!  He  had 


42  LIFE 

not  dreamed  that  she  would  be  so  wounded  by 
his  coldness.  He  saw  now  how  easy  it  would 
be  to  mold  her.  In  spite  of  her  fitful  spells 
of  waywardness,  she  could  be  easily  controlled 
through  her  affections.  The  sooner  they  were 
married  the  better.  He  had  an  impulse  to  pro- 
pose that  they  run  up  to  Stamford,  where  so 
many  runaway  couples  went,  and  be  married 
that  night.  But  before  he  could  make  any  such, 
suggestion,  she  had  brought  up  the  subject  of 
their  marriage  herself. 

Had  Mrs.  Watson  been  able  to  be  present, 
she  would  have  been  proud  of  her  pupil. 
Without  reproaching  him,  except  by  implica- 
tion, she  showed  how  his  cruelly  cold  letter  had 
opened  her  eyes  to  the  fact  that  he  did  not 
really  love  her  as  she  dreamed  of  being  loved. 
Marriage,  as  he  well  knew,  had  never  been  a 
part  of  her  scheme  of  life.  But  loving  him  as 
she  did,  she  had  been  on  the  point  of  sacrificing 
her  independence,  in  the  belief  that  her  love 
was  returned,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  had 
more  than  once  wounded  her  most  delicate 
sensibilities  in  the  attitude  he  assumed  in  re- 
gard to  the  money  she  had  been  obliged  to  ac- 
cept from  him  purely  as  a  loan. 

Entreaties,  protestations,  vows  of  sincere 
contrition  were  powerless  to  shake  her  deter- 
mination. Marry  him  now,  she  would  not.  The 
only  hope  she  could  give  him  was  that  after  a 
long  time,  certainly  not  less  than  a  year,  if  he 
could  convince  her  of  his  sincerity,  she  might 


LIFE  43 

follow  the  dictates  of  her  heart,  as  she  had 
been  on  the  point  of  doing  only  a  few  days 
before. 

In  the  meantime  it  appeared  that  her  suf- 
ferings had  been  so  poignant  that  she  could 
never  know  another  moment's  happiness  in 
those  rooms,  where  she  had  known  such  heart- 
ache. She  would  store  the  things — his  things 
— and  go  away  with  Mrs.  Watson  for  a  while. 

Considering  that  it  would  have  taken  wild 
horses  to  drag  Grace  away  from  New  York,  it 
took  a  wonderful  amount  of  eloquence  to  per- 
suade her  not  to  drive  a  disheartened  man  to 
desperation. 

When  he  reluctantly  left  her  at  her  door,  it 
was  with  the  understanding  that  she  would  ac- 
company him  on  a  little  business  trip  to  Wash- 
ington, leaving  Mrs.  Watson  to  attend  to  the 
dismantling  of  the  apartment.  On  their  return, 
at  the  end  of  the  week,  she  was  to  take  a  small 
suite,  still  chaperoned  by  that  invaluable  lady, 
at  some  quiet  little  hotel,  where  the  manage- 
ment did  not  scrutinize  too  closely  the  habits 
of  guests  who  paid  well  and  promptly. 

Once  back  in  his  own  rooms,  no  longer  under 
the  immediate  spell  of  her  beauty,  Burnett  per- 
mitted himself  to  wonder  just  how  much  of  the 
little  comedy  to  which  his  friend  had  treated 
him  had  been  genuine.  Somehow,  Grace,  in  the 
role  of  the  simple,  trusting  heroine,  seemed 
just  a  shade  out  of  character.  But  he  paid  her 
cleverness  the  tribute  of  admitting  that  for 


44  LIFE 

the  moment  he  had  certainly  been  taken  in.  He 
was  ready  to  stand  by  his  offer  to  marry  her 
to-morrow.  He  acknowledged  to  himself  that 
he  was  so  far  under  the  spell  of  her  fascina- 
tion and  her  beauty.  But  in  a  moment  of  hon- 
est introspection  he  admitted  that  by  the  end 
of  his  probation  he  would  probably  feel  very 
differently. 

Doubtless  Mrs.  Watson  numbered  among  her 
unhappy  experiences  some  dealing  with  storage 
warehouses,  which  she  judged  it  prudent  not 
to  repeat.  At  all  events,  having  paid  off  the 
cook  and  given  her  a  liberal  tip,  in  lieu  of  the 
usual  notice,  thus  removing  the  embarrassment 
of  her  turning  up  later  on  as  a  witness,  she 
proceeded  to  dispose,  at  quite  remarkable 
prices,  of  everything  the  apartment  contained. 

With  the  money  thus  obtained  safely  in  the 
bank,  deposited  to  her  own  credit,  she  felt  that 
the  first  step  toward  securing  her  future  was 
made.  And  if  she  couldn't  get  something  "on 
Grace ' '  before  the  day  when  she  would  be  asked 
to  give  an  account  of  her  stewardship — well, 
she  wasn't  going  to  worry  herself  about  that. 
Heaven  knew  that  she  had  had  enough  troubles 
without  discounting  the  future.  All  of  which 
shows  that  Mrs.  Watson  was,  in  her  small  way, 
a  philosopher. 


CHAPTER  IV 

RALPH  STUYVESANT  had  been  connected  with 
the  great  house  of  which  his  father  was  the 
head  a  little  over  eighteen  months  when  he  was 
married,  with  due  pomp  and  circumstance,  to 
Anna,  only  child  of  the  late  Hermann  Suydam, 
in  old  Saint  Mark's-in-the-Bouerie,  where  his 
fathers  had  plighted  their  troth  before  him. 
Ruth  always  declared  that  her  father  regarded 
a  marriage  celebrated  in  any  other  church  as 
being  of  doubtful  legality. 

Rarely  do  two  people  begin  their  married  life 
under  more  favorable  auguries.  Both  were 
young.  The  bride,  an  orphan,  was  pretty  and 
accomplished;  moreover,  she  possessed  a  small 
fortune  in  her  own  right.  And  certainly  no 
young  man  in  the  city  possessed  more  bril- 
liant prospects  than  Ralph  Stuyvesant.  Fi- 
nally, the  match  had  the  approval  of  the  family 
connections  on  both  sides. 

The  elder  Stuyvesant  allowed  himself  to 
draw  the  happiest  portents  from  the  fact  that 
his  son  was  following  the  family  tradition  in 
every  respect.  That  he  had  so  far  given  only 
casual  attention  to  his  purely  nominal  duties, 
and  exhibited  an  indifference  and  lack  of  in- 
terest concerning  the  affairs  of  the  bank,  which 
could  only  be  explained  on  the  ground  that  he 

45 


46  LIFE 

was  having  his  fling,  in  common  with  puppies, 
colts  and  the  young  of  all  species,  his  father 
preferred  to  believe. 

He  never  denied  that  he  had  been  a  little  wild 
himself.  To  be  sure,  he  had  never  allowed  his 
pleasures  to  interfere  with  his  business.  But 
young  men  nowadays  didn't  seem  to  have  the 
stamina  their  elders  had.  They  were  no  longer 
able  to  attend  to  both  business  and  pleasure. 
Ealph  had,  as  was  only  natural  at  his  time  of 
life,  chosen  to  devote  his  attention  for  a  year 
or  two  to  his  pleasure.  In  short,  in  his  heart, 
the  father  acknowledged  that  the  son  was  a 
weakling. 

But  marriage  would  fix  all  that.  Had  any- 
one suggested  to  Mr.  Stuyvesant  that  he  was 
in  the  least  superstitious,  he  would  have  been 
both  indignant  and  astonished.  But  the  fact 
remained  that  he  invested  the  marriage  rite 
with  extraordinary,  supernatural  qualities.  It 
was  to  transform  his  son  from  a  weak  man  into 
a  strong  one;  from  an  idle  and  dissipated  scat- 
terling  into  a  serious,  industrious  man  of 
affairs. 

For  with  Mr.  Stuyvesant  business  was  a  sort 
of  religion.  He  sincerely  believed  that  the 
head  of  a  great  bank  was  in  a  position  of  re- 
sponsibility and  trust  second  to  none  in  the 
land.  Had  anything  ever  even  threatened  the 
credit  of  Stuyvesant  and  Company,  his  own 
vast  fortune,  partly  acquired  by  inheritance, 
but  largely  the  result  of  his  own  foresight  and 


LIFE  47 

prudence,  would  have  instantly  been  turned 
over  to  the  trustees.  It  would  have  never  en- 
tered his  honest  old  head  that  any  other  course 
was  possible. 

He  had  not  as  yet  allowed  himself  to  enter- 
tain the  idea  that  his  only  son  was  not  to  suc- 
ceed him.  Even  if  he  should  not  develop  along 
the  lines  which  had  made  every  Stuyvesant  who 
had  preceded  him  a  power  in  the  financial  world, 
he  could  at  least,  by  application  and  industry, 
make  himself  worthy  to  be  the  nominal  head  of 
a  house  which  had  had  the  same  name  from  the 
beginning.  Honesty  was,  of  course,  as  much  a 
part  of  his  heritage  as  wealth. 

And  it  was  marriage  that  was  to  work  this 
miracle.  But,  as  has  been  shown,  it  had  failed 
to  perform  any  of  the  wonders  upon  which  the 
old  gentleman  had  confidently  counted. 

Ralph  became,  if  possible,  more  dissipated 
and  extravagant  than  ever.  With  blind  confi- 
dence in  Burnett,  the  father  was  always  beg- 
ging him  to  exercise  his  influence  over  his  son, 
little  knowing  how  baleful  that  influence  was. 
For  in  his  friend's  weakness  Burnett  saw  his 
long-waited-for  opportunity. 

He  encouraged  Ealph  in  all  his  extrava- 
gances, pointing  out  that  there  was  plenty  of 
time  to  sober  down  when  he  was  a  little  older. 
For  his  own  purposes  he  screened  him  as  much 
as  possible  from  his  father,  lending  him  from 
time  to  time  the  money  for  his  more  pressing 
debts.  If  Ealph  had  ever  heard  of  Grace  An- 


48  LIFE 

drews,  or  known  of  his  friend's  connection  with 
her,  he  might  have  wondered  how  he  managed 
to  get  on  on  his  comparatively  modest  salary, 
to  say  nothing  of  his  always  being  able  to  raise 
funds  for  his  own  too  frequent  crises. 

The  truth  was  that  Burnett  had  received  an 
advance,  more  important  from  the  point  of 
view  of  responsibility  than  from  the  financial. 
He  had  been  put  in  charge  of  the  vault,  where 
the  securities  were  kept.  It  was  an  easy  mat- 
ter for  him  to  inform  himself  as  to  what  se- 
curities out  of  the  millions  intrusted  to  his 
care  were  unlikely  to  be  called  for  for  some 
time.  There  was  a  risk  about  "borrowing" 
any  of  them;  but  then  there  were  risks  in  any 
business  venture.  He  easily  persuaded  himself 
that  the  opportunity,  the  supreme  chance  which 
was  to  make  or  mar  him,  had  come. 

Coincident  with  his  promotion,  the  fabled 
aunts  in  the  West,  whom  his  friend  Davidson 
secretly  regarded  as  "a  pair  of  old  pikers," 
apparently  awoke  after  a  long  period  of  in- 
activity. And  they  may  have  been  said  to  have 
aroused  themselves  to  some  purpose. 

Davidson  found  himself,  more  than  once,  on 
the  verge  of  apologizing  to  the  nephew  for  the 
contempt  in  which  he  had  formerly  held  them. 
He  privately  made  up  his  mind  that  the  two  old 
ladies  had  suddenly  gone  mad,  they  plunged  to 
such  an  extent.  He  only  hoped  their  madness 
might  last.  They  certainly  were  a  pair  of  fairy 
godmothers  to  the  junior  member  of  the  firm 


LIFE  49 

of  Davidson  and  Post.  And  what  securities 
they  produced  when  called  upon.  And  his 
friend  Burnett  was  their  favorite  relative. 
Well,  some  people  were  just  born  lucky!  He 
had  an  aunt  or  two  himself  not  so  badly  off  in 
this  world's  goods,  but  they  would  faint  away 
if  anyone  suggested  their  playing  parcheesi  for 
a  nickel  a  corner.  He  could  see  them  in  the 
stock  market. 

But  somehow,  let  him  play  cautiously,  or  let 
him  play  recklessly,  the  result  was  always  the 
same — Burnett  never  got  far  enough  ahead  to 
make  it  pay.  It  was  a  continual,  nerve-racking 
seesaw,  the  gains  balancing  the  losses.  Cer- 
tainly he  was  never  far  enough  ahead  of  the 
game  to  pay  him  for  the  attendant  anxiety. 
There  was  always  the  risk  of  the  "borrowed" 
securities  being  missed.  He  had  had  to  ask 
favors  more  than  once  of  his  friend  Davidson. 
And  while  his  opinion  of  the  young  broker 's  in- 
telligence was  not  of  the  highest,  he  wasn't  ex- 
actly a  fool.  He  had  once  or  twice  surprised 
an  expression  on  his  face  that  bordered  on  the 
suspicious. 

He  suddenly  displayed  a  violent  interest  in 
the  personality  of  the  Western  aunts;  specu- 
lated as  to  why  they  never  came  East,  insisted 
that  Burnett  press  them  to  come  on.  He  even 
went  to  the  length  of  swearing  to  immolating 
himself  in  the  sacred  cause  of  showing  them  a 
good  time,  vowing  to  personally  conduct  them 
to  church,  or  to  the  Eden  Musee,  should  that  be 


50  LIFE 

their  idea  of  amusement.  There  were  moments 
when  Burnett  could  gladly  have  strangled  him, 
so  irritated  was  he  by  these  and  similar  pleas- 
antries. 

For  a  long  period  he  had  prudently  laid  aside 
a  sum  which  was  to  get  him  out  of  the  country, 
should  he  ever  be  caught.  But  as  time  went  on, 
and  his  luck  became  no  better,  he  had  had  to 
draw  heavily  on  this  reserve  fund  for  current 
expenses.  The  devil  himself  seemed  to  be  play- 
ing against  him  in  more  directions  than  one. 
Grace,  for  example,  seemed  to  be  possessed  of 
the  very  demon  of  restlessness  and  extrava- 
gance. She  had  completely  changed  ever  since 
their  return  from  Washington,  now  over  a  year 
ago — the  trip  they  had  taken  after  their  first 
quarrel. 

Their  first  quarrel !  How  long  ago  it  seemed. 
They  rarely  met  now  without  quarreling.  And 
all  because  of  her  outrageous  extravagance. 
How  different  she  had  been  when  she  first  came 
up  to  town!  Then  she  was  most  careful  and 
economical.  He  recalled,  with  a  curl  of  his  lip, 
the  account  books  and  the  fiction  which  she  had 
kept  up  about  only  borrowing  the  money  from 
him.  She  had  practically  turned  him  out  of 
the  house  for  showing  that  he  did  not  believe 
in  her  sincerity. 

Well,  there  certainly  was  no  pretense  of 
keeping  accounts  now  or  of  ''borrowing," 
either.  The  bills  she  ran  up!  He  had  been 
mad  enough  to  open  accounts  for  her  at  any 


LIFE  51 

number  of  the  best  shops.  And  they  never 
dined  quietly,  alone,  together,  any  more.  She 
had  insisted  upon  meeting  his  friends.  And  he, 
proud  of  her  beauty  and  wit,  had  been  glad  to 
show  her  off  to  a  whole  lot  of  rackety  fellows, 
who  were  not  slow  to  congratulate  him  on  his 
luck.  He  had  known  how  to  protest  against 
their  insinuations  in  a  manner  that  served  only 
to  turn  suspicion  into  certainty.  Consequently, 
she  insisted  on  going  every  night  to  the  restau- 
rants where  the  lights  were  brightest  and  the 
company  the  fastest.  And  if  he  didn't  take  her, 
there  was  always  one  of  those  cursed  men  he 
had  introduced  her  to  who  would,  and  gladly. 

He  had  made  a  mistake.  He  was  to  blame 
more  than  she.  He  was  just  enough  to  ac- 
knowledge that  to  himself,  if  he  wouldn't  to  her. 
And  he  was  to  blame,  too,  for  not  frankly  tell- 
ing her  that  he  couldn't  keep  up  the  pace.  He 
never  doubted  that  she  cared  more  for  him 
than  she  did  for  anyone  else.  If  he  only  could 
bring  himself  to  tell  her  frankly  that  he  was 
not,  and  never  had  been,  as  well  off  as  he  had 
pretended  to  be.  He  was  sure  that  there  was 
still  enough  good  in  her,  enough  generosity  to 
respond  to  a  direct  appeal. 

As  it  was,  she  constantly  accused  him  of 
meanness  and  pretended  to  think  he  was 
squandering  his  money  on  other  women.  The 
subject  of  marriage  had  not  come  up  between 
them  for  a  long  time.  Apparently,  she  was 
perfectly  content  to  let  things  go  on  in  the 


52  LIFE 

same  old  way.  And  as  for  him,  while  he  was 
by  no  means  as  eager  to  marry  her  as  he  had 
once  been,  there  were  times  when  he  felt  a  per- 
fect rage  of  jealousy  at  the  thought  of  any  other 
man  possessing  her.  In  general,  he,  too,  was 
contented  with  things  as  they  were. 

But  there  came  a  time  when  things  couldn't 
go  on  any  longer.  For  nearly  a  month  things 
had  gone  steadily  against  him.  Davidson  was 
continually  calling  on  him  for  more  securities. 
Once  he  had  even  been  imprudent  enough  to  call 
him  up  on  the  telephone  at  the  bank.  The  only 
chance  to  come  out  even  was  to  plunge  more 
wildly  than  ever.  Luck  couldn't  always  be 
against  him.  But  the  time  had  come  when 
Ealph  must  be  equally  involved.  Old  Stuy- 
vesant  would  simply  have  to  make  good,  if  it- 
came  to  a  question  of  his  son's  good  name. 

By  a  fortunate  chance  Ralph  was  in  a  worse 
hole  than  usual.  A  young  lady  of  the  chorus, 
in  whom  he  was  for  the  time  being  interested, 
happened  to  fancy  a  diamond  and  emerald 
pendant.  The  jeweler  had  been  restive  for  some 
months,  and  was  now  threatening  to  take  the 
bill  to  his  father.  As  usual,  he  sent  a  hurry 
call  to  Tom  for  help,  being,  as  always,  "stony 
broke"  himself. 

They  had  dined  alone  at  Ealph 's  house,  his 
wife  having  run  down  to  Atlantic  City  for  a 
few  days  with  a  party  of  friends,  and  were 
having  their  coffee  in  the  room  Ralph  called 
his  "den."  Burnett  had  listened  to  the  con* 


LIFE  53 

fession  of  this  new  folly  and  the  vows  of  refor- 
mation which  accompanied  it  with  unusual 
gravity. 

"I'm  devilishly  sorry  for  you,  Ealph.  You 
know  I'd  help  you  if  I  could.  But  I  give  you 
my  sacred  word,  I'm  absolutely  cleaned  out  my- 
self. Can't  you  keep  the  old  fool  quiet  a  bit 
longer?" 

"He  gives  me  a  week;  swears  that  he  won't 
wait  an  hour  longer.  One  week  from  to-day, 
by  noon  at  latest,  the  money  must  be  in  his 
hands.  The  hound  even  had  the  damned  impu- 
dence to  tell  me  that  when  he  said  'money'  he 
didn't  mean  a  check!" 

"You  don't  mean,"  said  Tom,  genuinely 
startled,  "that  he  refused  to  take  a  check  of 
yours?" 

"No,  not  quite  so  bad  as  that.  But  he  did 
mean  that  I  couldn't  get  any  more  delay  by 
sending  him  a  check,  as  I  might  have  done." 

"Oh,  I  see." 

"Now,  see  here,  Tom.  You've  got  to  help 
me  out  of  this  some  way.  I  swear  I'll  never 
make  such  a  fool  of  myself  again. ' ' 

"My  dear  boy,  I  think  I've  helped  you  often 
enough  to  have  the  right  to  expect  to  be 
believed  when  I  say  I  simply  can't  do  a 
thing." 

"Oh,  I'm  not  doubting  that.  But  for  heav- 
en's sake,  think  of  some  way  out.  You've  got 
twice  the  head  I  have.  And  beside,  I'm  wor- 
ried nearly  crazy!" 


54  LIFE 

"Yon  wouldn't  consider  going  to  your  father 
— just  this  once  more!  Now  that  you've  really 
resolved  that  it  sha'n't  happen  again,  I  think 
he'd  look  at  it  differently." 

With  an  impatient  gesture,  Ealph  started  to 
walk  toward  the  window  without  looking  in  his 
friend's  direction.  He  didn't  see  the  sneer 
that  curled  Burnett's  lip. 

"I'd  blow  my  head  off  first!" 

"Buth — your  sister,  then.  You've  been  to 
her  before. ' ' 

"It  would  come  to  the  same  thing.  She's  on 
an  allowance;  and  while  the  old  gentleman  is 
always  generous  with  her,  she  couldn't  possibly 
have  as  much  as  that  in  ready  cash.  She'd  go 
to  him  and  that  would  make  matters  worse  than 
ever,  if  they  could  be  worse.  He'd  fly  in  an 
extra  rage  because  I  hadn't  come  to  him  direct. 
No,  you  must  think  of  something  else." 

Burnett  got  up  and  began  to  pace  the  floor 
in  his  turn. 

' '  No,  no !  That  would  be  impossible ;  it 's  too 
much  of  a  risk,"  he  said,  as  if  to  himself. 

"What's  too  much  of  a  risk?  There  isn't 
any  risk  I  wouldn  't  take  to  save  me  from  a  cer- 
tainty. What's  the  idea?" 

"Nothing.  I  tell  you  it's  too  risky.  Be- 
sides, it  wouldn't  be  right." 

"Good  God!  What  are  you  maundering 
about?  Do  you  know  any  place  I  could  borrow 
the  money?  I  don't  care  what  interest  I  have 
to  pay.  I  tell  you  I've  never  been  in  such  a  fix 


LIFE  55 

in  all  my  life.  I  promised  the  old  man  I  would 
cut  out  the  'merry-merry'  for  good  and  all 
after  I  was  married.  I  only  intended  having 
a  harmless  little  flirtation  with  the  damned 
little  devil.  But  the  first  thing  I  knew  I  was 
in  pretty  deep.  I  must  have  been  drunk  when  I 
promised  her  that  hellish  pendant.  But  I'd 
given  my  word  and " 

His  voice  trailed  off  into  silence  for  a  mo- 
ment as  the  thought  came  to  him  that  any  high- 
flown  sentiments  on  the  sacredness  of  his  word 
might  sound  a  trifle  ridiculous  to  one  who  knew 
how  often  it  had  been  broken.  As  yet,  any  sus- 
picion that  Burnett  was  not  almost  as  much  of 
a  paragon  as  his  father  considered  him  had 
not  entered  Ralph's  simple  mind,  so  skillfully 
had  that  gentleman  played  his  cards. 

"What's  the  idea?"  he  repeated. 

"Why,"  said  Burnett  slowly,  "I  was  only 
thinking  that  I  happened  to  have  some  inside 
information  that  U.  S.  Steel  was  going  to  be 
pretty  active  within  a  day  or  two.  I'm  pretty 
friendly  with  young  Davidson.  You  know  him, 
don't  you?  I've  dabbled  a  little  in  the  market 
occasionally  for  some  of  the  people  back  home 
on  tips  he's  given  me.  He's  always  been  right. 
And  now  he  thinks  there's  a  chance  to  make  a 
fortune  for  anyone  who  has  the  money.  You 
couldn't  fail  to  pick  up  a  few  thousands  before 
the  week  is  out,  if  you  cared  to  try  it." 

"What  with?"  said  Ralph  explosively.  "I 
tell  you  I  haven't  a  sou.  I'm  so  overdrawn  at 


56  LIFE 

the  bank  that  I  wouldn't  dare  draw  another 
check. ' ' 

"If  you  only  had  those  bonds  your  father 
gave  you  your  last  birthday ! ' ' 

11  Pawned.  I  told  you  that  six  months  ago. 
You  didn't  suppose  I'd  been  able  to  get  them 
out,  the  way  things  have  been  going  ? ' ' 

* '  There  we  are ! ' '  said  Burnett  with  a  shrug. 
' 'Lord !  When  I  think  of  that  vault  that  I  have 
to  go  to  every  day!  It's  full  of  gilt-edged 
things  that  nobody '11  think  of  wanting  for  the 
next  six  months."  He  threw  himself  into  a 
chair  and  began  to  poke  the  fire  without  look- 
ing at  his  companion.  For  a  long  moment 
neither  of  them  spoke. 

Ralph  went  over  to  a  small  table  in  the  corner 
of  the  room  and  poured  himself  a  generous 
drink. 

"So  that's  what  you  were  getting  at  when 
you  said  'It  was  too  risky'  and  'It  wouldn't  be 
right,'  "  he  said  huskily. 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  said  Burnett 
with  affected  innocence. 

"Oh,  yes,  you  do.  We  understand  each  other 
perfectly.  Only,"  said  poor  Ealph,  with  a  sort 
of  honest  scorn,  "don't  let's  be  afraid  of  call- 
ing things  by  their  right  names.  I'm  game  to 
steal  the  securities  to  speculate  with  if  you  are 
— this  once.  But  if  I  get  myself  out  of  this  hole, 
never  again,  so  help  me!" 

"Of  course  not,"  said  Burnett.  "I  never 
would  have  thought  of  such  a  thing  if  there  had 


LIFE  57 

been  any  other  way.  And,  as  you  say,  your 
case  seems  to  be  pretty  desperate.  Only  you 
must  stand  by  me  and  take  your  share  of  the 
risk,  which  honestly,  I  think,  is  of  the  slightest. 
Davidson  swears  that  his  information  comes 
from  a  source  that  can't  be  doubted." 

"When  can  you  pull  it  off?"  asked  Ralph. 
shortly. 

"To-morrow." 

"And  what  do  you  want  from  me?" 

"Well,  naturally,  since  I'm  the  one  who 
would  be  held  responsible,  I  want  you  to  sign 
a  paper  saying  that  we're  in  on  the  deal  to- 
gether. If  things  turn  out  all  right,  we  divide 
the  profits,  if  not " 

"We  go  to  jail  together,"  finished  Ralph. 

"t)on't  talk  such  nonsense,"  said  Burnett 
roughly.  "Your  father 'd  make  good,  if  the 
worst  came  to  the  worst." 

"I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  Ralph  grimly. 
"There's  paper  and  things  over  in  that  desk. 
Go  and  write  what  you  want  and  I'll  sign  it. 
I'd  sign  a  contract  with  the  old  boy  himself, 
the  way  I  feel  to-night." 

Burnett  crossed  over  to  the  desk  and,  seeing 
that  Ralph  was  staring  moodily  into  the  fire, 
slipped  an  agreement  which  he  had  already 
drawn  up  from  his  pocket  and  proceeded  to 
copy  it. 

"There,  I  think  that  covers  everything." 

"Yes,  I  think  it  does.  I  see,"  said  Ralph, 
with  grim  humor,  ' '  that  I  get  all  the  credit  of 


58  LIFE 

the  idea.  'At  the  suggestion  of  said  Ralph 
Stuyvesant,  said  Thomas  Burnett  consented  to 
withdraw  temporarily  from  the  vault  commit- 
ted to  his  charge  certain '  Oh,  hell!  What 

a  damned  hypocrite  you  are ! ' ' 

"You  don't  seem  to  remember  that  if  it  were 
found  out,  I'd  be  looking  for  a  job  and  that 
Stuyvesant  and  Company  might  hesitate  about 
giving  me  a  character." 

"I  get  this  damned  paper  back,  if  we  pull  it 
off.  Mind  you,  I'll  never  take  a  chance  like 
this  again." 

"  Certainly." 

Ralph  hesitated  no  longer.  Fortified  with 
another  drink,  he  signed  the  document  with  a 
hasty  indifference  suggesting  that  he  had  al- 
ready dismissed  all  thoughts  of  possible  conse- 
quences from  his  mind.  He  tossed  it  over  to 
his  friend,  who  carefully  folded  it  away  in  his 
billcase. 

"And  now,"  said  Ralph,  "let's  get  out 
of  this.  This  place  gives  me  the  Willies 
to-night.  I  suppose  our  little  business  is  fin- 
ished." 

"I  suppose  you  are  going  home  to  your  vir- 
tuous couch,"  he  continued,  as  they  stood  to- 
gether at  the  foot  of  the  steps  in  front  of  his 
house.  "I  don't  mind  letting  you  know  that  I 
propose  to  get  boiling  drunk,  and  that  I  don't 
expect  to  be  cold  sober  again  until  you  bring 
me  the  glad  tidings  that  I  can  once  more  become 
a  financially  respectable  member  of  society,  or 


LIFE  59 

the  less  cheerful  news  that  my  new  spring 
wardrobe  will  be  furnished  by  the  State." 

And  hailing  a  passing  taxi,  he  ironically 
wished  Burnett  "pleasant  dreams,"  his  offer 
to  drop  him  at  his  own  door  having  been  de- 
clined. 

Once  the  cab  had  turned  the  corner,  Burnett 
unfastened  his  coat  and  filled  his  lungs  with  a 
long  breath. 

"I  wonder  if  my  hair's  turned  gray,"  he 
laughed  to  himself.  '  *  I  never  could  have  pulled 
it  off  if  I  had  let  myself  think  for  more  than  a 
moment  what  it  would  mean  to  have  him  refuse. 
But  while  I  was  waiting  for  him  to  speak  and 
sat  poking  the  fire,  I  could  read  'South  Amer- 
ica' in  the  coals.  I  more  than  half  believe  that 
he  guesses  that  I've  been  playing  the  game  for 
some  time.  Well,  what  of  it?  He  can  think 
what  he  chooses  now  that  I  have  this  paper  in 
my  pocket ! ' ' 

Standing  outside  his  own  door,  the  key  al- 
ready in  the  lock,  he  suddenly  changed  his 
mind. 

"I  could  no  more  sleep  than  I  could  fly,"  he 
said.  "I'll  go  up  and  get  Grace.  She's  always 
ready  to  go  out  to  supper.  Besides,  I  haven't 
seen  her  for  two  days." 


CHAPTEE  V 

IF  there  be  such  a  thing  as  a  personal  devil, 
lie  must  have  smiled  contentedly  during  the 
week  which  followed  Burnett's  conference  with 
Ralph.  For  their  luck  certainly  changed  with  a 
completeness  only  equaled  by  its  suddenness. 
At  the  end  of  four  days,  Burnett  was  able  to 
show  Ealph  the  recovered  securities,  as  he  was 
carrying  them  under  his  coat,  back  to  the  vault, 
and  better  still,  turn  over  to  him  eighteen  thou- 
sand dollars  as  lr'3  share  in  their  little  venture. 

It  was  one  of  Ralph's  characteristics  to  run 
to  the  extremes  of  feeling.  He  was  always 
either  extraordinarily  elated,  or  correspond- 
ingly cast  down.  For  the  moment,  the  reaction 
after  the  suspense  and  anxiety  of  the  last  week 
led  him  to  commit  fresh  follies  in  the  way  of  ex- 
penditure. Having  paid  off  his  most  pressing 
bills,  he  used  the  greater  part  of  the  remaining 
sum  so  easily  acquired  in  buying  his  wife  a 
ring  she  had  long  coveted,  and  in  dispatching 
a  beautifully  fitted  dressing-case  to  the  lady  who 
had  been  the  immediate  cause  of  his  late  diffi- 
culties, now,  fortunately,  en  tour. 

Having  let  off  steam  in  this  fashion,  it  really 
looked  as  if  his  lesson  was  to  have  some  bene- 
ficial effects.  For  several  weeks,  to  his  father's 
infinite  gratification,  he  became  a  model  of  punc- 


LIFE  61 

tuality  and  attention  to  business.  His  relations 
with  Burnett,  while  superficially  exactly  the 
same  as  ever,  became  just  a  little  awkward  the 
moment  they  found  themselves  alone  together. 
From  the  time  they  had  first  met  as  boys,  Kalph 
had  always  looked  up  to  his  friend,  had  always 
regarded  him  as  an  immensely  superior  person 
of  unusual  ability,  charm  and  force  of  char- 
acter. 

There  had  been  times,  to  be  sure,  after  they 
had  grown  older,  when  he  had  secretly  looked 
upon  him  as  a  bit  of  a  prig,  almost  a  spoil- 
sport. For  Burnett  would  never  join  him  in 
any  of  his  mad  escapades,  was  temperate  to  a 
degree,  and,  no  doubt  the  greatest  reason  of- 
all,  was  continually  being  quoted  to  him  as  a 
model  of  all  that  a  young  man  should  be,  by 
his  father. 

The  moral  shock  of  the  revelation  of  his  true 
character  could  hardly  be  measured.  Ralph  was 
by  no  means  deficient  in  native  intelligence.  It 
would  have  taken  stronger  evidence  than  Bur- 
nett's bare  word  to  convince  him  that  he  had 
been  a  partner  in  the  first  assault  that  had  ever 
been  made  on  the  vault  containing  the  securities. 
The  whole  plan  was  too  daring  a  one  ever  to 
have  been  entered  upon  on  a  first  impulse,  by 
any  but  a  practiced  criminal,  however  un- 
scrupulous. And,  in  spite  of  his  pretended  hesi- 
tations, his  backings  and  fillings,  Ealph  now  saw 
clearly  that  he  had  walked  blindly  into  a  trap 
already  long  prepared  for  his  feet.  His  long 


62  LIFE 

habit  of  calling  upon  his  friend  to  help  him  out 
of  his  constantly  recurring  difficulties,  his  blind 
confidence  in  him,  both  as  friend  and  guide,  had 
but  too  well  prepared  the  way  for  his  own 
downfall. 

During  the  weeks  that  followed  his  first  abso- 
lutely dishonest  act,  he  felt  impelled,  more  than 
once,  to  throw  himself  on  his  father's  mercy  and 
confess  the  whole  disgraceful  transaction.  For 
days  at  a  time,  he  pointedly  avoided  Burnett, 
making  all  sorts  of  excuses  to  get  out  of  walk- 
ing uptown  with  him  after  business  hours,  as 
was  their  usual  habit.  In  the  end,  he  lacked  the 
courage  to  save  himself  from  the  net  which  he 
felt  closing  around  him.  For  Ralph  was  a 
coward  as  well  as  a  weakling. 

Gradually,  he  began  to  excuse  himself  with  all 
sorts  of  sophistries.  He  could  not  make  a  con- 
fession without  involving  Burnett,  to  whom, 
after  all,  he  was  greatly  indebted.  And  ingrati- 
tude could  never  be  anything  but  base.  Then, 
too,  while  technically  he  had  done  wrong,  ac- 
tually he  had  only  taken  what  some  day  must 
be  his  own.  His  father  was  getting  to  be  an 
old  man.  In  a  few  years  at  most,  all  this  wealth 
would  be  his  and  Ruth's.  It  was  an  axiom  that 
circumstances  altered  cases. 

He  even  succeeded  in  working  himself  up  to 
a  virtuous  indignation  against  Burnett.  It  was 
an  entirely  different  matter  with  him.  He  was 
in  the  position  of  a  trusted  employee;  not  at 
all  the  same  thing.  He  resolved,  more  than 


LIFE  63 

once,  to  speak  to  him  on  the  subject.  Of  course 
he  would  do  it  in  a  perfectly  friendly  way,  some 
day  when  he  could  do  so  quite  naturally  without 
having  to  make  the  opportunity.  And  then,  sud- 
denly, for  the  first  time,  he  recalled  that 
wretched  paper  to  which  he  had  signed  his 
name,  which  Burnett  still  had.  He  didn't  re- 
member clearly  just  what  its  purport  was.  He 
had  been  fearfully  drunk  later  that  night  and 
for  several  days  following.  Indeed,  he  had  had 
a  pretty  good  start  before  they  had  finished 
dinner.  That  was  another  thing  he  was  going 
to  do:  let  up  on  the  drink.  He  had  always 
found  it  hard  to  recall  what  he  did  or  said 
when  he  was  full,  but,  lately,  it  was  almost  im- 
possible to  remember  things  that  happened 
some  little  time  before  he  ''went  under."  He 
wished  he  knew  just  exactly  the  phrasing  of 
that  paper. 

But  since  he  had  let  it  go  so  long,  it  would  be 
better  not  to  make  its  recovery  seem  too  impor- 
tant by  asking  for  it  too  abruptly.  That  was  an- 
other of  those  things  that  had  to  be  done  at  the 
psychological  moment.  PoorEalph!  It  would  be 
investing  Burnett  with  nothing  short  of  super- 
natural powers  of  divination  to  say  that  he  was 
able  to  follow  all  the  mental  processes  of  his 
dupe  in  detail.  But  speaking  largely,  he  had 
long  since  learned  to  read  him  like  a  book. 
Consequently,  he  noted  Ralph's  studied  avoid- 
ance of  his  society  with  secret  amusement, 
understanding  perfectly  its  cause. 


64  LIFE 

It  did  not  require  any  great  astuteness  to 
foresee  that  the  day  could  not  be  far  off  when 
the  eighteen  thousand  dollars  would  be  ex- 
hausted. Kalph  had  admitted  sending  the  lady 
of  the  chorus  a  parting  gift  with  a  note  intimat- 
ing that,  like  all  good  things,  their  friendship 
had  come  to  an  end,  and  Anna  was  too  childishly 
pleased  with  her  new  ring  not  to  display  it  to 
everyone  she  knew. 

And,  most  important  thing  of  all,  at  least 
from  Burnett's  point  of  view,  Ralph  had  never 
alluded  to  the  incriminating  paper  which  bore 
his  signature.  To  one  who  understood  his 
vacillating  and  cowardly  nature,  this  was  not  so 
astonishing.  But  Burnett  saw  how  he  could 
make  capital  out  of  his  hesitation.  Naturally, 
he  had  no  intention  of  parting  with  a  document 
so  vital  to  his  own  safety.  Had  Ralph  ever 
summoned  up  his  courage  to  demand  it,  he 
would  have  evaded,  or  resorted  to  bluff. 

He  waited  until  one  day  after  they  had  resumed 
their  old  intimacy  and  were  strolling  uptown 
on  their  way  home.  They  had  reached  Bur- 
nett's door,  when  Ralph,  with  an  attempt  to  ap- 
pear quite  casual,  said : 

' '  Oh,  by  the  way,  Tom,  could  you  let  me  have 
a  few  hundred  until  week  after  next!  Anna's 
dressmaker  is  bothering  her,  and  I'm  over- 
drawn again,  and  my  allowance  isn't  due  for  ten 


'  *  Certainly, ' '  said  Burnett  cordially.  ' '  Come 
in  and  I'll  write  you  a  check." 


LIFE  65 

"Of  course  it's  none  of  my  business,"  lie  said 
with  a  light  laugh,  as  he  sat  down  at  his  desk, 
"but  how  on  earth  did  you  manage  to  get 
away  with  all  that  money  you  made  last 
month?" 

"Dead  horses,"  said  Ralph  laconically. 

"Too  bad.  I  don't  know  of  any  way  of 
spending  money  that  seems  quite  so  unsatis- 
factory." 

*  '  By  the  way,  '  '  he  went  on  carelessly,  '  '  David- 
son called  up  this  morning.  It  seems  he  has 
another  sure  thing.  Told  him  I  didn't  think  the 
people  I  represented  cared  to  do  anything  in 
his  line  just  now.  He  said  he'd  call  up  again 
in  a  day  or  two  and  see  if  they'd  changed  their 
minds.  That  reminds  me  :  I've  never  given  you 
back  that  little  memo,  of  our  agreement.  It's 
safe  enough.  I  locked  it  up  somewhere.  I'll 
hunt  it  up,  unless  you  think  you'd  sometime 
want  to  take  another  flyer." 


"Not  without  you,  thanks." 

"I  don't  see  what  that's  got  to  do  with  it." 


"Don't  you!" 

"Do  you  think  for  one  moment,"  said  Ralph 
with  sudden  heat,  "that  I'm  damned  fool 
enough  to  believe  that  you  never  tried  your  little 
game  before  you  roped  me  into  going  in  with 
you?" 

Burnett  considered  a  moment,  looking  out  of 
the  window. 

"No,"  he  said  quietly,  "I  don't  mind  telling 


66  LIFE 

you  that  I've  done  it  any  number  of  times. 
What  of  it!" 

"What  of  it!  Supposing  I  were  to  do  the 
decent  thing  and  go  to  my  father  with  the 
whole  story?" 

* '  You, ' '  Burnett  sneered.  ' l  In  the  first  place, 
you're  not  man  enough.  In  the  second,  what  if 
you  did?  I  would  admit  that  we  had  slipped  up 
once,  produce  our  little  piece  of  paper,  by  way 
of  confession,  and  deny  that  I  had  ever  touched 
a  single  security,  except  in  the  way  of  legitimate 
business,  before.  And  there  wouldn't  be  any 
possible  way  of  proving  that  I  wasn't  telling 
the  truth." 

"Why,  you've  just  admitted  it  to  me!" 

"My  dear  Ealph,  what  a  baby  you  are!  I 
should,  of  course,  swear  I'd  never  said  any  such 
thing,  and  you  have  no  witnesses.  I  remember 
that  you  once  accused  me  of  being  a  hypocrite 
in  not  calling  things  by  their  proper  names.  All 
right;  let's  do  so.  Do  you  suppose  that  one 
thief's  word  is  not  just  as  good  as  another's! 
I  think  you '11  find  it  is." 

Ealph  made  a  despairing  gesture. 

"Now,  why  not  look  at  things  sensibly  and 
like  a  man.  You  can't  possibly  live  on  your 
salary  and  allowance.  Your  father  doesn't 
realize  that  the  whole  scale  of  living  has 
changed  since  his  day.  You're  always  having 
the  life  badgered  out  of  you  by  people  to  whom 
you  owe  money.  What's  the  answer!  You've 
never  been  able  to  find  any.  Here's  what  I'd 


LIFE  67 

do  in  your  place.  Every  time  I  could  get  a 
real  tip  on  the  market,  I'd  take  a  chance.  You 
only  need  two  or  three  good  days  to  give  you 
enough  money  to  go  on  with  for  ever  so  long. 
By  and  by,  you  could  save  enough  to  speculate 
with  on  your  own  hook.  In  the  meantime,  what 
are  you  doing  after  all?  Borrowing  what  will 
some  day  be  your  own  in  order  to  get  out  of 
debt  and  be  able  to  devote  your  time  to  buckling 
down  to  business  with  an  untroubled  mind.  The 
result  will  be  that  you  will  be  able  to  please 
your  father  more  than  you  have  ever  done  in 
your  life.  Don't  think  I  don't  know  how  hard 
it  is  for  you. ' ' 

"There's  a  good  deal  in  what  you  say.  I've 
thought  of  it  myself.  But,  Lord,  I  haven't  the 
nerve." 

"That's  where  I  come  in.  I  stand  in  well 
with  Davidson.  He'll  protect  us  when  we  need 
it,  for  of  course  we  can't  win  all  the  time.  I'll 
only  act  when  I  have  a  number  one  tip.  And 
we'll  split  even  on  the  results.  What  do  you 
say?" 

"Go  ahead.  I'm  on.  Only,  for  God's  sake 
be  careful." 

"Trust  me  for  that.  And  now  let's  have  a 
little  drink  to  the  health  and  prosperity  of  the 
new  firm  of  Stuyvesant  and  Burnett." 

"He  is  a  fool,"  said  Burnett  to  himself,  after 
Ealph  had  gone.  "I  was  all  over  gooseflesh 
when  he  talked  of  going  to  his  father.  It 
wouldn't  take  the  old  man  long  to  find  enough 


68  LIFE 

proofs  to  send  me  up  for  life.  A  few  words 
from  Davidson  about  my  dear  old  aunts  in  the 
country  would  have  been  all  they  needed.  But 
I've  knocked  that  idea  out  of  his  head,  and  I've 
got  him  where  I  want  him  at  last.  Now,  I  have 
a  chance  to  make  my  pile.  And  if  I  go  to  smash 
— well,  there'll  be  a  Stuyvesant  to  keep  me 
company. ' ' 

The  history  of  the  three  years  that  followed 
can  be  briefly  told.  Burnett,  of  course,  paid  nd 
attention  to  his  pledge  to  wait  for  good  tips. 
He  plunged  constantly  with  varying  fortune. 
There  were  times  when  they  were  far  enough 
ahead  of  the  game  to  have  satisfied  anyone  of 
reasonable  desires.  Again,  their  losses  were 
enough  to  have  sobered  them  had  they  only  to 
face  losing  their  own  money.  Time  after  time, 
they  only  escaped  detection  by  a  miracle. 

Through  every  chance,  Burnett  kept  his  cool 
head.  But  the  effect  of  the  continual  strain  on 
Ralph  was  to  plunge  him  further  into  fresh  dis- 
sipation. His  father  had  at  last  nearly  given 
up  hope  that  he  would  ever  be  more  than  a  trial 
and  an  anxiety.  One  thing  only  remained  to  be 
tried.  Humiliate  him  before  his  associates  and 
the  world  by  promoting  Burnett,  in  whom  his 
confidence  remained  boundless,  over  his  head. 

During  this  time,  Burnett  had  abandoned  all 
thoughts  of  marrying  Grace.  He  saw  now  that 
she  could  never  be  anything  but  a  stumbling- 
block  as  a  wife,  however  desirable  she  might  be 
as  a  mistress.  He  must  marry  money.  He 


LIFE  69 

could  hardly  have  told  when  it  was  that  he  first 
began  to  think  of  Kuth  Stuyvesant.  He  had 
always  thought  of  her  as  a  child  until,  suddenly, 
one  night  when  he  was  dining  at  the  house,  she 
seemed,  in  some  magical  way,  to  have  turned 
into  a  charming  young  woman. 

It  was  characteristic  of  him  that,  once  pos- 
sessed with  the  idea  of  making  Ruth  his  wife,  he 
should  set  about  immediately  to  accomplish  his 
purpose  by  every  means  in  his  power.  He  soon 
decided  that  there  would  be  no  opposition  on  the 
part  of  her  father,  which  was,  after  all,  the  only 
obstacle  which  he  might  have  found  it  difficult  to 
overcome.  Ralph  would  never  dare  oppose  him, 
and  if  he  did,  his  wishes  and  opinions  would 
have  no  weight  with  anyone,  much  less  Ruth 
herself.  And  as  for  Ruth?  He  had  outstripped 
all  rivals  with  many  a  woman.  Surely  the  con- 
quest of  the  affections  of  a  young  inexperienced 
girl  who  hardly  knew  half  a  dozen  men  outside 
of  her  family  and  connections  would  not  be  diffi- 
cult, particularly  since  he  had  the  father  whom 
she  idolized  on  his  side. 

There  remained  one  person  to  be  reckoned 
with — Grace.  In  many  ways,  she  was  as  much 
of  a  puzzle  to  him  as  ever.  But  of  one  thing  he 
was  certain:  she  would  require  most  delicate 
handling.  He  had  thought  of  buying  her  off,  of 
pensioning  her,  as  it  were.  But  aside  from  the 
consideration  that  Grace,  if  she  should  consent 
to  this  plan  at  all,  would  be  sure  to  drive  a  hard 
bargain  and  demand  something  more  than  prom- 


70  LIFE 

ises  in  the  way  of  fulfilment,  she  had  become  too 
much  a  part  of  his  life,  too  much  of  a  habit,  for 
him  to  be  willing  to  consider  existence  without 
her. 

No  woman  had  ever  held  him  as  she  had  done. 
Not  by  her  beauty  alone — and  even  to  his  jeal- 
ously critical  eye  her  beauty  had  suffered  no 
diminution  with  the  passing  years — but  by  a 
certain  sparkling  quality  which  to  him  was  a 
constant  and  never-failing  stimulus.  In  a  word, 
while  she  might  irritate,  annoy  and  even  enrage 
him  at  times,  she  never  bored  him. 

Whereas,  he  had  no  illusion  that  marriage 
would  not,  if  for  no  other  reason  than  that  it 
represented  a  definite  tie.  He  had  been  free 
too  long  not  to  realize  that  any  chain,  even  a 
chain  of  gold,  was  sure  to  prove  irksome.  Ruth, 
charming  and  appealing  as  she  unquestionably 
was,  was  only  a  schoolgirl.  He  thought  that 
he  detected  signs  of  unusual  force  of  character 
in  her  already.  But  it  would  take  time  for  her 
to  develop.  She  could  never  have  the  fascina- 
tion for  him  that  Grace  had  had  from  the  first 
moment  he  had  seen  her.  There  was  no  reason, 
after  all,  why  the  relations  between  Grace  and 
himself  should  not  continue  after  an  interval. 
How  many  men  he  knew  who  maintained  two 
establishments  without  any  open  scandal !  The 
situation  would  require  careful  handling.  But 
he  never  doubted  his  ability  to  carry  it  through 
successfully.  The  first  step  would  be  to  get  his 
mistress  out  of  the  way  until  his  marriage  was 


LIFE  71 

either  an  accomplished  fact,  or  at  least  so  defi- 
nitely settled  that  she  could  not  upset  it.  And 
even  if  in  the  first  violence  of  her  rage  at  finding 
that  he  was  going  to  marry  another  woman  she 
should  threaten  to  tell  of  their  relations — and 
she  probably  would — he  thought  he  knew  how 
to  quiet  her  by  appealing  to  her  vanity,  her  love 
for  him,  and  above  all  her  regard  for  appear- 
ances which  was  largely  prompted  by  her  fear  of 
her  father. 

Having  decided  all  these  things,  and  arranged 
his  plan  of  campaign,  he  lost  no  time  in  putting 
it  into  execution. 

He  was  too  skillful  and  practiced  a  liar  not  to 
take  advantage  of  the  truth  as  much  as  possible. 
He  began  by  staying  away  from  Grace's  hotel 
for  days  at  a  time.  But  he  made  it  a  point  to 
call  her  up  each  afternoon  on  the  telephone  to 
explain  that  he  was  greatly  worried  by  business 
and  wasn't,  in  consequence,  fit  company  for  man 
or  beast.  Grace  quickly  passed  from  annoyance 
to  genuine  concern.  Such  conduct  was  quite 
unlike  Tom.  He  was  generally  only  too  glad  to 
forget  his  troubles  in  her  society.  He  had  often 
boasted  that  he  kept  business  cares  for  business 
hours  and  didn't  intend  to  grow  old  by  worry- 
ing overtime. 

On  the  few  occasions  when  he  did  present 
himself,  he  managed  to  look  positively  haggard, 
and  was  so  moody  and  abstracted,  so  unlike  his 
usual  gay  self,  that  she  grew  really  alarmed. 

Finally,  one  night  when  they  had  dined  quietly 


72  LIFE 

at  home,  with  every  evidence  of  extreme  reluc- 
tance, he  confessed  to  her  that  for  the  time 
being  he  was  ruined,  wiped  out  by  the  stock  mar- 
ket. He  was  about  to  give  up  his  rooms  where 
he  had  lived  for  years — he  knew,  it  appeared,  a 
man  who  would  take  them  off  his  hands  just  as 
they  were — and  camp  out  in  some  cheap  hotel. 
It  would  take  months  of  rigid  economy  to  put 
him  on  his  feet.  He  was  frightfully  in  debt. 
He  had  thought  of  telling  her  the  truth  about 
his  peculations  from  the  bank,  but  had  decided 
to  keep  this  last  card  still  up  his  sleeve. 

There  was  only  one  thing  to  be  done,  and  he 
asked  her  to  believe  that  he  had  gone  over  every 
possible  plan  before  coming  to  a  decision.  She 
must  go  away  for  a  time.  Luck  was  sure  to 
turn.  She  could  not  doubt,  knowing  how  empty 
his  life  would  be  without  her,  that  he  would 
send  for  her  at  the  earliest  possible  moment. 
There  were  lots  of  places,  not  half  bad,  where 
she  and  Mrs.  Watson  could  manage  to  exist  for 
a  time.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  had  had  to  bor- 
row the  money  to  pay  her  bill  at  the  hotel  the 
last  month.  He  still  had  enough  left  to  square 
things  if  she  would  be  reasonable  and  arrange 
to  go  within  the  week.  Of  course,  he  still  had 
his  modest  salary.  She  could  count  on  his  send- 
ing her  a  comparatively  small  sum  from  time  to 
time.  Promising  to  come  up  again  within  a 
day  or  two  at  most,  he  left  her  to  digest  his  un- 
welcome tidings  and  hold  counsel  with  Mrs. 
Watson- 


LIFE  73 

How  much  of  the  story  which  the  excited 
Grace  poured  into  the  ears  of  her  confidante 
was  believed  by  her,  it  is  impossible  to  say. 
Following  her  usual  custom,  she  declined  to 
commit  herself  in  any  way  until  she  had  '  *  slept 
on"  the  news.  Mrs.  Watson  was  a  firm  believer 
in  dreams ;  continually  asserting  that  if  she  had 
only  been  wise  enough  to  listen  to  the  voices 
that  advised  her  in  her  sleep  when  she  was 
younger,  she  would  not  have  been  where  she 
was,  whatever  that  may  have  meant.  One  thing, 
however,  she  did  condescend  to  suggest :  that,  as 
Burnett  would  not  be  able  to  join  them  on  the 
following  night,  young  Mr.  Davidson,  who  was 
always  bright  and  amusing,  be  asked  to  take 
them  out  to  dinner. 

Grace  fell  in  with  this  suggestion  at  once. 
She  knew  that  Davidson  was  Burnett's  broker 
through  Tom's  mentioning  it  some  time  before 
wnen  he  had  asked  to  bring  him  up  to  dinner. 
It  would  be  a  simple  matter  to  pump  him  dry  on 
the  subject  of  her  lover 's  losses,  that  somewhat 
simple  youth  being  one  of  her  most  infatuated 
adorers. 

The  dinner,  accordingly,  took  place  and  Grace 
and  Mrs.  Watson  were  equally  convinced  that 
the  tale  of  Burnett's  heavy  losses  was  literally 
true. 

It  affected  the  two  ladies  quite  differently. 
Mrs.  Watson  firmly  announced  her  intention  of 
remaining  in  New  York,  at  least  for  the  present. 
An  imaginary  doctor  whom  she  was  constantly 


74  LIFE 

consulting  for  some  mysterious  malady  which 
always  prevented  her  doing  anything  that  she 
did  not  really  want  to  had  impressed  upon  her 
the  necessity  of  consulting  him  at  least  bi- 
weekly, declining  to  be  responsible  for  the  con- 
sequences should  she  leave  town  at  this  par- 
ticular time.  Of  course,  it  nearly  broke  her 
heart  to  think  of  parting  from  her  dear  friend, 
even  temporarily;  but  Grace  would  be  sure  to 
be  back  in  no  time — Burnett  was  far  too  clever 
a  man  to  suffer  more  than  a  passing  eclipse  of 
fortune — and  they  would  once  more  be  reunited. 
Besides,  as  all  her  friends  knew,  Mrs.  Watson 
had  spent  her  life  in  thinking  of  others.  The 
time  had  come  when  she  must  think  a  little  of 
herself. 

The  fact  was  that  during  the  years  of  their 
stay  at  the  hotel  Mrs.  Watson  had  been  able  to 
make  a  most  prudent  arrangement  with  the 
landlord,  whom  she  had  found  to  be  a  most 
amiable  man,  sympathetic  and  fair-minded  to  a 
degree.  Grace  had  all  of  the  indolence  of  her 
class  and  detested  details  and  anything  that  had 
to  do  with  figures.  It  had  fallen  to  the  good- 
natured  Mrs.  Watson,  therefore,  to  keep  track 
of  the  current  expenses,  just  as  it  had  done  in 
the  days  when  they  were  keeping  house.  Mrs. 
Watson  had  always  managed  to  find  time  to 
confer  with  the  landlord  before  the  monthly 
bill  was  rendered.  That  her  percentage  was  not 
small,  her  quite  respectable  bank  account  was  a 
witness.  Although  she  had  been  able  to  verify 


LIFE  75 

Burnett's  story  of  his  losses,  Mrs.  Watson  was 
by  no  means  convinced  that  he  had  not  seized 
this  opportunity  to  break  with  her  fair  friend. 
All  men  were  deceitful  and  double-dealing.  No 
doubt  the  time  had  come  when  he  had  decided 
to  marry  and  settle  down. 

She  had  long  ago  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
Grace  lacked  real  force  of  character.  With  her 
looks  there  was  no  reason  why  she  shouldn't 
long  ago  have  aspired  higher  than  a  young  man 
with  his  fortune  still  to  make.  Well,  let  her 
cling  to  her  Tom  and  wait  for  him  to  make  his 
fortune.  She,  herself,  had  no  time  to  waste. 
Her  friend,  the  landlord,  had  told  her  of  a 
lodging-house  in  the  neighborhood  which  she 
could  have  at  a  reasonable  figure.  With  his 
help,  she  thought  that  she  knew  how  to  make  it 
succeed. 

Grace,  finding  herself  thus  deserted,  and  being 
convinced  that  she  would  be  bored  to  death  any- 
where away  from  New  York,  hit  upon  the  idea 
of  paying  her  parents  a  long  deferred  and  often 
promised  visit.  That  would  give  her  time  to 
decide  upon  a  place  to  spend  her  exile.  Always 
disinclined  to  mention  her  old  home  or  her 
family  to  Tom,  she  contented  herself  with  tell- 
ing him  that  she  was  going  over  to  Philadelphia 
for  a  few  days  to  see  some  people  she  knew. 
As  soon  as  she  made  any  arrangements,  she 
would  let  him  know. 

They  had  a  final  dinner  together  in  a  secluded 
restaurant  at  which  they  both  became  astonish- 


76  LIFE 

ingly  sentimental,  vowing  eternal  fidelity  to 
each  other,  and  planning  for  the  time  when 
they  would  once  more  be  together.  Once  back 
in  the  little  sitting-room  of  the  hotel,  now  dis- 
mantled of  all  the  pretty  little  knickknacks 
which  gave  it  character  and  individuality,  Bur- 
nett found  himself  on  the  verge  of  telling  her 
the  truth,  so  genuinely  distressed  did  she  ap- 
pear. But  he  thought  better  of  it  on  con- 
sideration. 

4 'Now  remember,"  he  said  as  he  held  her  in 
a  last  embrace,  "it  may  take  six  months  to  put 
me  back  on  my  feet.  But  there  is  to  be  no 
coming  to  New  York,  not  for  a  day." 

"I  know." 

"And  I  am  not  going  to  see  yon.  It  will  be 
just  as  hard  for  me.  You  know  that.  You 
promise?  " 

"Yes,  I  promise." 

And  so  they  parted. 


CHAPTER  VI 

IT  was  a  little  after  nine  o'clock  when  Bur- 
nett left  his  club  and  started  to  his  rooms, 
which  he  had  not,  after  all,  given  up  as  he  had 
intended.  On  thinking  it  over,  he  had  decided 
that  he  could  retrench  quite  as  much  in  other 
ways.  While  they  were  spacious  and  comfort- 
able, they  were  simply  furnished  and  not  ex- 
pensive, as  rooms  in  New  York  went.  Until  he 
was  once  more  on  his  feet,  he  would  cut  out 
dining  at  expensive  restaurants  and  go  to  one 
of  his  clubs  for  his  dinners. 

Noting  the  time  by  the  clock  in  the  Metro- 
politan Tower,  he  quickened  his  pace.  Ealph 
would  be  waiting  for  him.  The  hallboy  knew 
him  and  would  let  him  in.  Now  Ralph  had 
shown  signs  during  the  day  of  being  in  one  of 
his  worst  moods.  At  such  times  he  was  often 
difficult  to  handle,  and  was  more  than  ever  in- 
clined to  drink  heavily.  He  knew  where  the 
whisky  was  kept,  and  if  left  to  himself  too 
long  would  drink  himself  into  a  fighting  humor, 
always  the  precursor  of  a  prolonged  spree. 
Burnett  had  his  own  reasons  for  wishing  to 
keep  him  sober. 

He  had  not  intended  staying  so  long  at  the 
club.  But,  somewhat  to  his  surprise,  he  found 
that  the  news  of  his  new  honors  had  leaked 
77 


78  LIFE 

out,  and  there  were  a  number  of  men  who  had 
detained  him  with  their  congratulations.  As 
he  went  up  in  the  elevator,  he  remembered  that 
Grace  had  been  gone  just  two  weeks.  He  sup- 
posed she  was  still  in  Philadelphia.  But  it  was 
strange  that  she  had  not  found  time  to  send 
him  a  line. 

"What  the  devil  are  you  sitting  in  the  dark 
for?  I'm  sorry  I'm  late,  but  I  got  jawing  with 
some  fellows  at  the  club." 

Ralph  was  lolling  in  an  immense  armchair, 
the  whisky  and  a  siphon  on  a  table  at  his  elbow. 
His  only  response  to  his  friend's  greeting  was  a 
sullen  scowl.  Burnett  picked  up  the  decanter 
and  held  it  up  to  the  light. 

"I'm  sorry  to  seem  inhospitable,"  he  said, 
as  he  locked  it  up  in  the  sideboard,  "but  I  think 
you've  had  all  you  need  for  the  evening." 

"Fortunately,  I've  still  got  a  dollar  or  two, 
and  saloons  are  on  every  corner,"  said  his  guest 
with  a  sneer. 

"Now,  Ralph,  for  God's  sake,  don't  make  an 
ass  of  yourself  at  this  particular  moment.  You 
know  Ruth's  terribly  keen  about  getting  up  that 
party  to  go  up  to  New  Haven  on  the  coach  day 
after  to-morrow.  You  want  to  keep  fit  for  that, 
don't  you!  " 

"  Can't  say  that  I  care  much.  I  probably 
wouldn't  be  included,  if  she  wasn't  taking  half 
the  town. ' ' 

"  Don't  talk  like  a  fool!  What's  the  matter 
with  you  anyway!  " 


LIFE  79 

"I'm  sore,  that's  what's  the  matter,"  said 
Ralph,  sitting  up  with  a  jerk.  "  I'm  getting  a 
little  tired  of  the  treatment  I'm  getting.  After 
all,  I'm  still  one  of  the  family,  I  guess.  And 
it's  a  little  humiliating  to  have  to  depend  on 
outsiders  for  news  of  what's  going  on." 

"I  hope  you  know  what  you're  talking  about. 
I  give  you  my  word  I  don't." 

"Don't  you,  indeed?" 

"No,  I  don't.  You're  surely  not  talking 
about  my  being  taken  into  the  firm?  You  knew 
that  that  was  coming  as  soon  as  I  did." 

' '  Damn  your  being  taken  into  the  firm ! ' ' 

"Now,  look  here,  my  young  friend,"  said  Bur- 
nett with  pretended  heat,  "you  ought  to  thank 
your  lucky  stars  that  it's  come  just  when  it  has. 
If  it  had  been  delayed  a  month  longer,  where 
would  you  have  been,  I'd  like  to  know.  The 
only  way  I  could  have  stayed  things  off  any 
longer  would  have  been  to  blow  up  the  damned 
building  with  dynamite." 

"Where  would  I  have  been?  Where  would 
you  have  been,  you  mean." 

"Well,  where  would  we  both  have  been? 
May  I  ask  if  you  have  any  idea  what  we 
owe  Stuyvesant  and  Company  at  the  present 
moment?" 

"No,  and  I  don't  want  to." 

"Of  course  not.  You  are  glad  enough  to 
take  your  share  of  the  profits,  when  there  are 
any;  but  when  it  comes  to  the  worry  and 
anxiety,  no  thank  you.  You  are  perfectly  will- 


80  LIFE 

ing  to  leave  all  that  to  me.  Don't  be  afraid," 
went  on  Burnett  scornfully,  "I've  no  intention 
of  telling  you.  You'd  only  get  crazy  drunk  and 
tell  the  whole  story  to  the  first  person  you  could 
get  to  listen  to  you.  I  repeat,  I've  got  into  the 
firm  not  a  day  too  soon.  It's  the  only  thing 
that  could  have  saved  us.  And  in  place  of  being 
thankful,  you're  sore  about  it." 

"How  many  times  do  you  want  me  to  tell 
you  that  I  don't  give  a  whoop  in  hell  whether 
you're  made  head  of  the  firm  or  not?  It's 
another  thing  altogether." 

"Well,  what?    Let's  get  it  over." 

Ralph  lurched  to  his  feet  and  stood  swaying 
by  the  table.  He  had  suddenly  become  ashy 
white.  His  lip  was  curled  in  an  ugly  snarl. 
Whether  he  had  been  drinking  before  he  came, 
and  had  had  more  than  Burnett  suspected,  or 
for  the  reason  that  his  brain,  already  inflamed 
with  alcohol,  was  thrown  off  its  balance  by  the 
violence  of  his  passion,  it  was  impossible  to  say, 
but  on  the  instant  he  had  become  remarkably 
drunk. 

"I'm  on  to  your  di-dirty  scheme.  Your 
pl-pl-plotting  to  marry  my  sister.  She's — she's 
the  only  si-sister  I've  got,  an'  I  won't  have  it, 
do  you  hear,  I  won'  have  it,"  he  stammered. 
"  Anna — she's  m'  wife — tol'  me  all  'bout  it." 
And  with  a  final  lurch  he  collapsed  into  the  chair 
and  burst  into  a  fit  of  maudlin  tears. 

"So  that's  what's  troubling  you,  you  poor 
fool,"  said  Burnett,  half  to  himself.  Even  as 


LIFE  81 

he  stood  looking  down  at  him,  Ralph  was  asleep. 
With  a  disgusted  shrug,  he  picked  him  up  and 
carried  him  over  to  a  couch  at  the  end  of  the 
room  and,  having  covered  him  with  a  warm 
traveling  rug,  turned  out  the  lights  and  went 
calmly  to  bed.  As  he  was  falling  asleep,  he 
wondered  again  why  he  had  not  heard  from 
Grace. 

As  it  happened,  Grace  was  thinking  of  him 
at  that  very  moment.  At  first,  she  had  en- 
joyed her  visit  with  her  parents  even  more  than 
she  had  expected.  It  was  delightful  to  be  made 
so  much  of.  Thoi,  too,  she  was  actress  enough 
to  enjoy  playing  the  simple,  unsophisticated 
girl  again.  Nothing  had  really  changed.  Per- 
haps her  father  was  a  little  less  erect  and  her 
mother  a  little  grayer  than  when  she  had  last 
seen  them.  But  at  heart  they  were  no  older. 
And  their  delight  at  having  her  home  again 
touched  her  sincerely. 

Still,  she  was  beginning  to  be  fearfully  bored. 
They  were  so  childishly  interested  in  the  same 
old  things.  Her  mother  still  waged  war  with 
the  mischief-loving  boys  who  were  always  try- 
ing to  take  a  short  cut  through  her  beloved 
parlor  on  the  way  to  the  bathhouse ;  her  father, 
as  he  had  done  each  year  since  she  could  re- 
member, swore  that  the  crew  was  the  finest 
crew  he  had  ever  trained  and  that  Bill  Reid,  the 
stroke,  was  the  greatest  stroke  Yale  had  ever 
had.  And  she  had  to  pretend  to  be  as  inter- 
ested as  they  were  I 


82  LIFE 

Each  night  she  resolved  to  tell  them  in  the 
morning  that  she  must  go.  And  each  morning 
her  heart  failed  her.  She  had  told  them  that 
the  firm  that  employed  her  had  gone  out  of 
business  and  that  for  the  moment  she  was 
without  a  position.  But  she  had  provided  an 
avenue  of  escape  in  telling  them  that  she  was 
daily  expecting  to  hear  from  an  employment 
agency  that  was  sure  to  find  her  another  posi- 
tion before  long. 

The  days  she  could  get  through  with  well 
enough.  Dressed  in  the  simple,  cheap  gowns 
appropriate  to  her  supposed  condition,  the  se- 
lection of  which  had  been  Mrs.  Watson's  part- 
ing office,  she  strolled  about,  watched  the  boats 
on  the  river  from  the  boat-house  porch,  or 
helped  her  mother  about  the  house. 

But  the  nights!  There  were  times  when 
seated  at  the  homely  supper-table  it  was  all  she 
could  do  to  keep  from  screaming  at  the  top  of 
her  voice,  so  great  was  her  longing  for  Tom, 
her  nostalgia  for  the  lighted  restaurants  of 
Broadway.  At  such  moments,  the  purely  hys- 
terical impulse  to  shatter  forever  the  peace  of 
mind  of  these  two  simple  old  people  by  shrieking 
the  truth  about  her  way  of  life  was  almost  ir- 
resistible. Supper  once  eaten,  she  would  help 
her  mother  clear  the  table  and  wash  the  dishes. 
And  then,  having  lighted  her  father's  pipe  for 
him,  they  would  all,  if  the  evening  were  fine, 
sit  out  on  the  porch  and  watch  the  silvery  river 
glide  by  in  the  moonlight;  talking,  if  they  talked 


LIFE  83 

at  all,  of  the  crew,  the  everlasting  crew  and  the 
chances  for  winning  in  the  coming  race  I 

Finally,  toward  half-past  nine,  when  her 
father's  snores  made  it  impossible  to  keep  up 
any  further  pretense  that  he  was  not  fast  asleep, 
her  mother  would  shake  him  by  the  shoulder 
and  they  would  all  go  up  to  bed.  What  an 
existence !  A  dozen  times  she  had  feverishly 
packed  her  small  trunk  after  going  up  to  her 
room,  only  to  unpack  it  again  in  the  morning. 
But  things  could  not  go  on  like  this  much 
longer.  Why  couldn't  she  come  to  some  deci- 
sion as  to  where  she  was  to  spend  the  rest  of  her 
exile!  She  simply  must  make  up  her  mind. 
Tom  would  think  it  strange  that  she  didn't 
write.  Then,  too,  she  would  soon  be  out  of 
funds.  Mrs.  Watson,  having  been  in  urgent  need 
for  money  to  pay  her  doctor,  had  borrowed  a 
large  part  of  the  money  left  over  after  paying 
the  outstanding  bills. 

As  she  sat  looking  out  of  her  window  on  the 
night  of  Burnett's  heart-to-heart  talk  with 
Ralph,  she  little  knew  that  within  a  few  hours 
Fate  would  decide  things  for  her. 

It  was  the  afternoon  of  the  day  of  Ruth's 
coaching  party.  All  day  long  it  had  been  un- 
usually hot.  The  crew  were  out  on  the  river 
and  old  Tom  and  his  wife  were  out  on  the  lawn 
in  front  of  the  house. 

"That's  a  good  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Andrews, 
peering  through  the  open  window.  "Gracie 
is  making  some  iced  tea,  I'm  that  glad,  my 


84  LIFE 

head's  splitting  with  the  heat!  Have  some, 
Tom!  " 

"I  will  not.  I  tell  you,  Grade,"  he  called, 
* '  a  tall  one — of  the  dark  kind  with  a  collar  on — 
would  be  all  to  the  good.  Hurry  before  the 
crew  gets  in.  They  '11  be  swingin '  down  the  river 
most  any  minute  now — and  it's  no  use  makin' 
the  boys  feel  bad  by  the  sight  of  somethin'  they 
can't  have." 

"Very  well,  father,"  called  Grace. 

"Ah,  but  it's  the  comfort  to  have  her  home 
again,"  said  Tom  to  his  wife. 

"It  is  that.  But  when  I  look  at  her,  so  dainty 
and  sweet,  and  then  look  at  me  and  you,  Tom, 
I  don't  see  how  she's  goin'  to  stay  here." 

"Ain't  we  her  parents?" 

' '  Sure  'n  that 's  the  surprisin '  part  of  it.  How 
you,  Tom  Andrews,  could  ever  have  a  daughter 
like  that!" 

"Well,  I  always  thought  she  was  mine,  Nora, 
but  you  know  best." 

With  a  laugh,  he  dodged  a  blow  from  the 
broom  with  which  his  wife  had  been  sweeping 
the  porch. 

"Here  you  are,  father,"  said  Grace,  coming 
out  with  a  glass  in  either  hand. 

"Happy  days!" 

As  her  mother  stood  smacking  her  lips  over 
her  tea,  Grace  took  the  broom  and  began  to  go 
on  with  the  sweeping. 

"No,  no,  no,  I'll  finish  that." 

"Nonsense!    I'm  not  company.   And  besides 


LIFE  85 

I  want  to  show  you  that  I  haven't  forgotten  how 
to  sweep. " 

"  'Tis  mighty  hard  for  yer  mother 'n  me  with- 
out yer.  An'  we've  missed  yer,  I  can  tell  you 
that,"  said  Tom  soberly,  wiping  his  mouth  with 
the  back  of  his  hand.  "And  if  you  only  stay, 
we  '11  be  that  glad ! ' '  chimed  in  his  wife.  ' '  Still, ' ' 
she  added  prudently,  "if  that  there  agency 
gets  you  another  twenty-five-dollar  a  week 
job,  I  suppose  it  would  be  wicked  not  to 
take  it." 

"Yes,  'twould,"  said  her  husband  ruefully. 

"An'  you  gettin'  to  be  such  a  lady,"  went 
on  her  mother  fondly.  ' '  Why,  you  might  be 
married  to  a  millionaire  most  any  TuesdaV 

"No  danger  of  that,"  said  Grace,  shaking  her 
head. 

"An1  why  not?" 

"Millionaires,  mother,  aren't  looking  for 
girls  like  me." 

"Well,  if  I  was  a  millionaire "  began  Tom 

hotly. 

"Good  gracious,"  interrupted  Grace  sharply, 
"we'd  better  hurry  or  we  won't  be  through  be- 
fore the  crew  comes.  And  didn  't  Mr.  Hampton 
saw  that  there  were  some  people  coming  out  to 
see  Dad's  pets!" 

"He's  that  proud  of  them!" 

"An'  wouldn't  any  trainer  be  proud  of  them! 
Six  years  now  the  Johnny  Harvards  have 
trimmed  us,  but  you  just  wait  till  Thursda' 
week.  And  with  Bill  Eeid  stroking,  you'll  see 


86  LIFE 

the  greatest  crew  Yale  ever  had  come  smash- 
ing down  that  lane  of  boats — ahead!" 

"The  greatest  Yale  ever  had!  Do  you  think 
they're  that  good,  Dad?" 

"I  don't  think  it,  I  know  it.  The  best  crew 
I  ever  trained,  and  Bill  Reid's  the  greatest 
stroke." 

"Here  they  come,"  said  his  wife,  pointing  to 
the  river. 

"Ah,  the  beauties — ain't  it  a  sight  for  sore 
eyes!" 

"Come  on — come  on  there,"  he  shouted. 
"Easy  now — What's  the  matter,  number  two? — 
—Steady— that's  the  stuff,  Bill  Reid— Ah,  you 
Reid!— Pull  it  through— that's  the  way.— One, 
two,  three,  steady  as  a  clock. — Ah,  you  could  go 
to  sleep  in  her ! "  The  Yale  shell  came  swinging 
along,  the  eight  men  pulling  in  the  steadiest 
fashion,  thirty-four  strokes  to  the  minute. 
Chugging  along  behind  came  the  motor-boat 
with  Hampton,  the  coach,  who  kept  shouting 
through  his  megaphone: 

"Easy — easy — well  pulled." 

Slowly,  slowly  the  shell  came  to  a  stop,  the 
men  resting  on  their  oars. 

* '  C-c-c-come  on  now — all — together.  Let  'em 
k-k-know  we're  here,"  stammered  Jimmie 
Jones,  the  little  coxswain. 

"  Rah — rah — rah — 

Rah — rah — rah — 

Rah — rah — rah — 

YALE1" 

chanted  the  crew. 


LIFE  87 

"Wh-wh-what's  the  ma-matter  with  Tom  An- 
drews?" 

"He's  rotten!"  agreed  the  crew  with  one 
voice. 

"You  shrimp,"  called  Tom,  pretending  to  be 
in  a  great  rage.  "You  wait,  I'll  get  you!" 

"Wh-wh-what's  the  matter  with  Mother  An- 
drews?" continued  the  undaunted  Jones. 

"She's  too  good  for  old  Tom,"  was  the  gal- 
lant response. 

' '  Ah — you  wait ! ' ' 

"Come  on  in,  Tom,  the  water's  fine,"  called 
one  of  the  men. 

"Wait  till  I  get  you  on  the  rubbing  board. 
I'll  teach  you  to  talk!"  cried  Tom,  shaking  his 
fist  at  them,  his  fierce  expression  more  or  less 
marred  by  a  broad  grin. 

"Don't  you  dare  abuse  them  dear  boys,"  said 
his  wife,  appeased  for  the  moment  at  the 
compliment  paid  her.  "Don't  you  worry, 
Mr.  Jones,  you  just  stutter  as  much  as  you 
want  to." 

"I  d-d-don 't  want  to  stutter.  I  d-d-do  it 
anyhow." 

"Oh,  yo-yo-you  d-d-do,  do  you?"  laughed 
Tom,  trying  to  imitate  him. 

As  the  shell  came  paddling  down  to  the  float, 
Tom  threw  open  the  doors  of  the  boat-house; 
and  the  men,  getting  out  very  gingerly,  pro- 
ceeded to  carry  the  shell  in  on  their  shoulders, 
as  Hampton,  the  coach,  a  burly,  middle-aged 
man,  stepped  out  of  the  launch.  Almost  in- 


88  LIFE 

stantly,  they  came  piling  out  again,  all  strap- 
ping fellows  in  the  pink  of  condition,  weighing 
from  one  hundred  and  sixty-five  to  a  hundred 
and  eighty  pounds.  All,  that  is,  except  the  little 
coxswain  who  weighed  less  than  a  hundred,  and 
seemed  remarkably  thin  for  that.  Jones  ad- 
vanced with  the  elaborate  caution  of  an  Indian 
on  the  warpath,  and  instantly  dodged  behind 
a  friendly  tree. 

"Now  I'll  get  you,  you  shrimp, "  said  his 
enemy,  making  a  rush  at  him.  But  little  Jones 
was  nothing  if  not  agile.  Wriggling,  squirm- 
ing, dodging  and  ducking,  finding  asylum  be- 
hind one  man  after  another,  they  on  their  part 
doing  their  best  to  aid  by  getting  in  Andrews' 
way,  he  was  finally  captured  just  as  he  was 
about  to  dodge  behind  big  Bill  Reid.  Old  Nora 
laughed  until  the  tears  ran  down  her  cheeks. 
Even  Grace  forgot  her  deadly  boredom  for  the 
moment. 

1 '  Shall  I  throw  him  in  ? "  demanded  his  captor. 

"No,  no.    Give  him  the  blanket!" 

With  a  rush  they  seized  the  huge  blanket 
hanging  over  the  railing  of  the  porch  and  threw 
the  protesting  Jones  in  the  middle  of  it. 

"S-s-s-sst-stop!"  he  shrieked  in  mock  terror. 

"Now,  one,  too,  three,  all  together.'* 

Amid  yells  and  cheers,  the  hapless  coxswain 
was  tossed  until  everyone  was  exhausted.  Bill 
Reid  alone  took  no  part  in  the  sport.  As  he 
strode  over  the  lawn  to  where  the  coach,  Hamp- 
ton, was  standing,  Grace  had  to  admit  that  he 


LIFE  dd 

was  an  unusually  striking  and  attractive  figure. 
It  was  not  alone  that  he  was  deep-chested, 
broad-shouldered,  big  of  bone  and  muscle,  a 
nearly  perfect  type  of  strong,  athletic  manhood 
—Grace  was  too  physical  herself  not  to  feel  the 
magnetism  of  all  that — but  about  him  was  a 
compelling  quality  that  no  mere  splendid  ani- 
mal could  ever  possess.  What  did  it  come 
from!  Was  it  intellectual?  Was  it  moral? 
Grace  could  not  say.  She  only  knew  that,  more 
than  any  other  man  she  had  ever  encountered, 
Bill  Reid  possessed  it. 

As  she  stood  in  the  background  noting  the 
frank,  fearless  glance  of  his  fine  eyes,  and  the 
winning  charm  of  the  smile  that  occasionally 
broke  down  the  accustomed  gravity  of  his  face, 
serving  to  make  it  suddenly  appealingly  boyish, 
it  swept  over  her  with  a  gust  of  unreason- 
able anger  that  she  both  hated  and  feared 
him. 

Why?  She  asked  herself  the  question.  Was 
it  because  her  beauty  had  failed  to  arouse  even 
his  passing  interest?  No,  she  was  sure  it  was 
not.  She  had  been  a  little  piqued,  as  was  nat- 
ural, at  the  discovery  just  at  first,  and  had  made 
the  mistake  of  attributing  his  indifference  to  the 
fact  that  he  probably  considered  himself  too 
much  ''above"  old  Tom  Andrews'  daughter, 
however  pretty,  to  pay  any  attention  to  her 
further  than  that  which  a  kindly  courtesy  to 
her  father  demanded.  But  since  then  she  had 
learned  that  he  had  not  disdained  to  work  his 


90  LIFE 

way  through  college  by  doing  any  "chores," 
however  humble,  that  came  to  his  hand,  so  he 
was  evidently  not  prompted  by  any  false  pride. 
She  repeated  to  herself  that  this  was  not  the 
reason.  She  hated  and  feared  him  instinctively, 
that  was  all  there  was  to  it.  It  was  one  of 
those  feelings  that  can  never  be  accounted  for 
rationally. 

She  moved  away  toward  a  little  table  upon 
which  the  empty  glasses  were  standing,  and 
murmuring  something  to  her  mother  about  tidy- 
ing up  a  bit,  carried  them  into  the  house. 

"Satisfied  to-day,  Mr.  Hampton?" 

"More  than  satisfied,  Bill.  You  broke  the 
record  for  the  course." 

"  Broke  the  record!  That's  great,  isn't  it! 
They're  a  great  bunch  of  fellows,  coach.  I 
could  feel  it  the  way  they  backed  me  up 
to-day." 

"Well,  you  see  we  have  a  stroke  worth  back- 
ing up,"  said  Hampton,  laying  his  hand  for  a 
moment  on  his  shoulder.  ' '  Now  get  in  for  your 
shower  and  rub-down,  Bill." 

"Here,  you,"  he  called  to  the  rest  of  the  crew 
in  quite  another  tone.  ' '  Get  in  here,  every  one 
of  you.  What  do  you  think  you  came  here  for 
— to  amuse  yourselves?" 

His  words  were  a  signal  to  more  than  the 
members  of  the  crew.  With  a  quickness  sur- 
prising for  such  a  big  woman,  Mrs.  Andrews 
jumped  on  the  steps  and  prepared  to  defend  her 
beloved  parlor  at  the  point  of  the  broom.  She 


LIFE  91 

was  not  a  moment  too  soon,  for  little  Jones  was 
only  a  second  behind  her. 

"No  you  don't,"  she  cried,  aiming  a  blow  at 
him.  '  *  Around  the  house  with  you ! ' ' 

"Got  your  tea  and  cake  and  stuff  like  that 
ready,  Mrs.  Andrews?"  asked  Hampton.  "I 
thought  the  crowd  that  is  drivin'  out  would  be 
here  when  we  came  in  from  the  river." 

"Sure'n  how  many  are  they  goin'  to  be,  Mr. 
Hampton?"  she  asked  anxiously.  "Of  course 
we'll  be  ready,  all  right;  still  I'd  like  to 
know." 

1 '  Oh,  ten  or  fifteen,  I  suppose.  You  know  it 's 
Mr.  Stuyvesant's  party.  Mr.  William  Van 
Kennsselaer  Stuyvesant,  the  big  banker.  He  was 
an  old  oarsman  in  his  day,  you  remember." 

"Faith  an'  how  old  do  you  think  I  am!"  she 
asked  indignantly. 

"Well,  you  must  remember  Ealph  Stuyve- 
sant, his  son,  who  was  coxswain  of  the  crew 
five  years  ago. ' ' 

"Yes,  I  remember  him/'  said  Mrs.  Andrews 
in  a  tone  that  suggested  that  the  recollection 
did  not  carry  an  enormous  amount  of  pleasure 
with  it.  "How  are  they  comin'  out,  did  you 


"On  a  tally-ho." 

At  that  moment  there  came  the  sound  of  a 
horn  still  some  way  off.  Grace,  who  had  caught 
the  name  Stuyvesant  through  the  open  window, 
made  it  a  pretext  for  coming  out. 

"I  thought  I  heard  a  horn,  mother." 


92  LIFE 

"And  so  you  did.  It's  Mr.  Stuyvesant's 
tally-ho.  Well,  go  on,  Mr.  Hampton.  Do  I 
know  any  of  the  rest?" 

"I  don't  know  that  I  can  tell  many  more  of 
them.  But,  of  course,  there'll  be  Tom  Burnett. 
You  remember  Tom  Burnett?" 

"Remember  him!  Will  I  ever  forget  him? 
When  he  was  here,  he  used  to  be  doin' 
nothin'  but  pesterin'  the  life  out  of  Gracie, 
here." 

At  the  mention  of  Burnett's  name,  Grace  had 
impulsively  started  for  the  house  again.  She 
must  get  up  to  her  room  and  stay  there  until 
these  people  had  gone.  A  sudden  illness,  a 
headache,  anything  would  do  for  an  excuse. 
Tom  must  not  see  her,  not  know  she  was  here. 
Or  at  least  she  must  get  him  alone  and  invent 
some  story  about  her  mother's  having  been  ill 
and  having  sent  for  her.  She  must  watch  be- 
hind the  curtain  of  her  room  until  a  chance 
came. 

But  at  Hampton 's  next  words,  the  house,  the 
boat-house,  the  whole  landscape  swam  before 
her  eyes.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she 
feared  that  she  was  going  to  faint.  She  sank 
down  for  a  moment  on  the  steps  leading  up  to 
the  porch.  Fortunately,  Hampton  was  always 
rather  slow  of  speech,  which  gave  her  time  to 
pull  herself  together. 

"They  say  he's  goin'  to  marry  Mr.  Stuyve- 
sant's daughter,  Miss  Euth  Stuyvesant.  She's 
a  good  looker,  and  will  have  five  or  ten  million 


LIFE  93 

dollars  of  her  own  some  day.  Gee,  it's  a  cinch 
it's  the  money  he's  after!" 

"N-o-o-o!"  said  Mrs.  Andrews  in  astonish- 
ment. "Well,  I  never!  Do  you  hear  that, 
Grace?  Young  Burnett  is  going  to  marry  the 
rich  Miss  Stuyvesant." 

"My  dear  mother,  why  in  the  world  should 
that  interest  me?" 

"Well,  you  used  to  know  him,  and  I 
thought " 

"Oh,  you  thought  too  much,  mother,  dear," 
said  Grace,  getting  up  and  putting  her  arm  af- 
fectionately round  her  mother's  ample  waist. 
"That  was  so  long  ago,  I  can  scarcely  remem- 
ber Mr.  Burnett.  Let  me  see;  what  was  he 
like?" 

"Black-haired,  rather  handsome  chap.  But 
no  good,  I  always  thought,"  said  Hampton. 

"And  Miss  Stuyvesant,  is  she  pretty?"  asked 
Grace  in  a  tone  of  polite  interest. 

"A  perfect  corker!  " 

"Really?"  And  after  a  moment:  "What 
type?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  Fair  complexion,  gray 
eyes,  reddish  hair." 

"Well,  for  my  part,  I  never  did  like  them 
redheads,"  said  Mrs.  Andrews  with  conviction. 

Once  more  came  the  sound  of  the  horn;  this 
time  a  perfect  fanfare.  And  then,  presently, 
one  could  distinguish  the  sound  of  fresh  young 
voices,  singing.  Out  of  the  house,  fairly  tum- 
bling over  each  other  in  their  excitement,  came 


94  LIFE 

the  men  of  the  crew,  fresh  and  glowing  in  their 
flannels  and  blue  jerseys,  just  as  the  big  coach, 
drawn  by  six  horses  and  loaded  with  men  and 
girls,  came  dashing  into  the  yard. 

Followed  by  her  mother,  Grace  hurried  into 
the  house. 


CHAPTER  VII 

MR.  STUYVESANT,  who  had  been  a  noted  whip 
in  his  day,  was  driving.  He  was  in  Ms  element 
with  the  reins  in  his  hands.  All  the  way  up 
from  the  city  he  had  been  as  gay  and  light- 
hearted  as  the  youngest  of  his  guests;  his  big 
voice  booming  out  when  they  sang  any  songs  he 
knew,  his  hearty  laugh  sounding  above  all  the 
rest. 

If  at  any  moment  the  fun  seemed  to  be  dying 
out,  he  always  knew  how  to  rekindle  it  by  tell- 
ing some  preposterous  story  about  his  friend, 
Donald  MacLaren,  a  rather  dry-as-dust  old  gen- 
tleman who  sat  beside  him  on  the  box,  and  who 
was  in  a  continual  state  of  protest,  partly  on 
account  of  the  anecdotes  and  partly  because 
Mr.  Stuyvesant  insisted  upon  emphasizing  all 
his  points  by  prodding  him  in  the  side  with  the 
butt  end  of  his  whip. 

In  after  years  Euth  always  looked  back  on 
this  day  with  tear-dimmed  eyes.  Never  again 
was  she  to  see  her  dearly  loved  father  so  care- 
i  free  and  happy. 

By  way  of  showing  that  his  hand  had  lost 
,  none  of  its  old-time  cunning,  the  old  gentle- 
man, having  slyly  flecked  the  leaders  with 
the  lash  of  his  whip,  brought  the  coach  up  to 
the  door  with  a  flourish  that  brought  a  cheer 

95 


96  LIFE 

from  the  members  of  the  crew  waiting  to  re- 
ceive him  and  his  party.  Achnowledging  his 
reception  with  a  low  bow  and  a  flourish  of  his 
hat,  he  motioned  to  the  grooms  to  take  their 
places  at  the  prancing  animals'  heads  and 
turned  to  his  guests.  "I  think,  before  alight- 
ing, that  we  should  respond  to  our  cordial  wel- 
come with  a  song.  All  ready  ?  One,  two,  three, 
begin!" 

The  response  was  instantaneous. 

"  Row — row — row 
Just  a  little  while, 
Give  Johnny  Harvard 
A  sample  of  our  style. 
Row — row — row 
Your  very  last  bit, 
That's  the  way 
To  make  a  hit. 
Row — row — row 
Let  'em  yell  Jim  Wray. 
We  have  Bill  Reid, 
He'll  show  the  way." 

And  then  they  suddenly  began  the  famous 
"Boola-Boola"  in  which  the  crew  joined. 

"  Boola— boola 
Boola — boola 
Boola — boola 
Boola — Boo. 
We'll  rough-house 
Johnny  Harvard, 
Pennsylvania, 
Princeton,  too. 
Boola — Boo. 
Eli— YALE!  " 

"What  I  like  about  both  those  songs  are  the 
words;  they're  an  inspiration  in  themselves," 
said  Mr.  MacLaren  slyly. 


LIFE  97 

"Nobody  cares  a  hang  about  words;  it's  the 
tune,  man." 

11  You  don't  mean  to  say " 

"  Brackety — cax — coax — coax. 
Brackety — cax — coax — coax. 
Hooray — hooray, 
Hullabaloo 

YALE!  " 

And  with  a  rush  the  crew  stormed  the  coach 
and  began  to  help  the  girls  to  get  down.  Most 
of  them  were  old  acquaintances;  indeed,  there 
were  rumors  of  more  than  one  "unofficial"  en- 
gagement existing.  Perhaps  the  one  that  ex- 
cited the  greatest  amusement  was  that  of 
'•Shrimp"  Jones  to  Jennie  Bruce,  a  large, 
handsome,  fat  girl,  Ruth's  most  intimate  friend. 

At  the  imminent  risk  of  having  the  life 
crushed  out  of  him,  should  she  chance  to  miss 
her  footing,  little  Jones  was  now  assisting  his 
inamorata  in  her  perilous  descent.  Once  more 
on  the  firm  earth,  she  proceeded  to  load  the  un- 
fortunate youth  with  all  manner  of  packages 
which  her  friends  passed  down  to  her. 

" I-I-er-I-er,  Jennie,"  he  stammered. 

"Yes,  I  know  you're  glad  to  see  me;  you 
ought  to  be,"  replied  the  fat  girl  with  her  placid 
drawl.  "  Wait  a  minute,  here's  some  more." 

"Wh-what'sa-allthis?" 

"You  didn't  look  like  you  were  getting  enough 
to  eat,  so  I  brought  you  some  food,  you  poor, 
skinny,  little  thing." 

"Oh!" 


98  LIFE 

"Where's  Mr.  Reid?    I  want  Mr.  Reid." 

"Do-do  you  thi-think  that's-that's  the  way  to 
tr-tr-treat  me?  Co-come  down  h-here,  1-1-load 
me  up  with  pa-pa-packages  and  then  a-a-ask  for 
Bill  Reid?" 

"Of  course  it  is.  Besides,  I'll  treat  you  any 
'way  I  want  to.  You're  in  love  with  me." 

"Wh-who  s-s-said  I  w-w-was  in  1-1-1  ove  with 
you?"  demanded  little  Jones,  rising  to  the  bait, 
as  his  tormentor  knew  he  would  do. 

"You  don't  have  to  say  it;  you  act  it. — Oh, 
Mr.  Reid!" 

"Here  I  am,  Miss  Bruce.  How  are  you?" 
said  Reid,  advancing  with  his  pleasant  smile. 

"Splendid.  I've  lost  six  ounces  in  six  weeks. 
Here's — Oh,  where  is  it?"  Seizing  Jimmy  by 
the  collar,  she  pulled  him  forward,  and  selecting 
one  of  the  largest  of  the  boxes  which  completely 
filled  his  arms,  she  held  it  out  to  the  smiling 
giant. 

"Here's  a  five-pound  box  of  Page  and  Shaw's 
chocolates.  I  brought  them  especially  for  you. ' ' 

Little  Jones  gave  a  vengeful  cackle. 

"  He  c-c-can't  e-e-eat  'em!" 

"Keep  quiet!" 

"He's  right.  You  see,  Miss  Bruce,  we're 
training  and  can't  eat  candy.  Thank  you  just 
the  same." 

' '  Can 't  you  ? ' ' — with  elaborate  surprise.  * '  Do 
you  know,  I  had  sort  of  an  idea  maybe  you 
couldn't.  I'll  eat  'em  myself." 

With  a  laughing  nod  of  dismissal,  she  strolled 


LIFE  99 

off  with  her  admirer  in  tow,  already  munching 
her  chocolates. 

In  the  meantime,  Mr.  Stuyvesant  having 
given  some  directions  to  the  grooms,  turned  to 
meet  Hampton. 

" Hello,  Hampton,  how  are  you?  How's  the 
crew?"  he  asked  in  his  hearty  voice. 

11  You  're  looking  bully,  Mr.  Stuyvesant." 

"What  the  devil  difference  does  it  make  how 
I  look?  How's  the  crew,  I  say." 

"The  greatest  ever.  It's  our  year  with  Bill 
Reid  as  stroke." 

Turning  his  head,  he  saw  his  favorite  looking 
laughingly  after  the  departing  Miss  Bruce,  and 
nodded  for  him  to  join  him. 

"So  you're  Bill  Reid,"  said  Mr.  Stuyvesant, 
holding  out  his  hand  without  waiting  for 
Hampton  to  introduce  the  young  man.  "I'm 
Bill  Stuyvesant.  I  stroked  Yale  once  myself." 

"Oh,  I've  heard  of  you,  sir.  You're  the  man 
who  brought  your  boat  up  three  lengths  in  the 
last  quarter  mile,  and  won." 

Mr.  Stuyvesant  gave  a  pleased  laugh.  "Well, 
you're  going  to  win,  too,  I'm  sure.  Can  tell 
by  the  look  of  you.  Wait  a  minute."  He 
turned  and  looked  around  at  the  various  scat- 
tered groups  until  his  eye  fell  on  his  friend, 
Colonel  MacLaren,  standing  next  his  daughter. 

"Mac,  come  here  a  minute." 

Colonel  MacLaren  came  briskly  over,  followed 
more  slowly  by  Ruth. 

"MacLaren,  here's  Bill  Reid.    The  boy  who's 


100  LIFE 

going  to  lick  you  Johnny  Harvards  next  Thurs- 
day week!" 

"We'll  see  about  that,"  said  his  friend,  af- 
fecting to  bluster. 

"MacLaren,  here,"  continued  Mr.  Stuyvesant, 
holding  his  hand  beside  his  mouth,  and  speak- 
ing in  the  loudest  of  whispers,  ' '  rowed  on  Har- 
vard the  year  I  rowed  on  Yale.  And  what  I  did 
to  him!"  he  ended  with  a  burst  of  laughter. 

"Father,"  said  a  quiet  voice,  as  he  was  wip- 
ing his  eyes,  "won't  you  introduce  me  to  Mr. 
Eeidf" 

"Of  course.  Bill  Eeid,  this  is  my  daughter, 
Miss  Stuyvesant." 

"I've  been  looking  forward  to  meeting — Bill 
Eeid, ' '  said  Euth,  holding  out  her  hand. 

For  some  unaccountable  reason,  Bill  Eeid 
flushed  to  the  roots  of  his  hair.  For  a  long 
moment,  blue  eye  met  gray  eye  in  an  unwaver- 
ing, steadfast  glance.  Still  smiling,  Euth  made 
an  effort  to  release  her  hand,  which  was  lost  in 
his  big  one.  At  that  moment,  her  father's  rov- 
ing eye  fell  on  Tom  Andrews,  who  was  just 
coming  out  of  the  house. 

' '  Tom  Andrews,  well,  well !  You  're  beginning 
to  show  your  age,  Tom." 

And  then,  as  they  were  joined  by  Ralph: 
"Bill  Eeid,  this  is  my  son,  Balph  Stuyvesant." 

"  Glad  to  meet  you,"  said  Bill  cordially. 
Wasn't  he  her  brother!" 

"I  was  coxswain  of  the  crew  five  years  ago," 
said  Ealph,  swaggering  a  little.  "I  want  you 


LIFE  101 

to  meet  my  wife.  Anna,  this  is>  Bill  Eeid,  the 
stroke." 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Eeid," 
said  Anna  gushingly.  "We're  all  pulling  so 
hard  for  you  to  win ! ' ' 

"It's  going  to  take  hard  pulling  on  our  part, 
too,"  with  a  shake  of  his  head. 

"I  understand  Harvard  has  a  good  crew  this 
year, ' '  said  a  new  voice  at  his  elbow. 

Bill  turned  to  meet  the  rather  insolent  glance 
of  Tom  Burnett. 

"Oh,  my  name's  Burnett,  Thomas  Burnett." 

Eeid  returned  his  bow,  but  Euth  noticed  that 
neither  man  offered  to  shake  hands.  It  was 
all  Tom's  fault,  she  said  to  herself.  He  was  in 
one  of  his  most  supercilious  moods.  She  could 
tell  that  by  the  very  tone  of  his  voice. 

"For  some  strange  reason,"  she  said  lightly, 
"Tom  seems  to  think  Harvard's  going  to 
win.  Eeally,  I  almost  believe  he  wants  them 
to!" 

"I  don't,  my  dear,"  with  a  slight  emphasis 
on  the  term  of  endearment.  "  Of  course  I'm  a 
Yale  man,  but  I  can't  let  my  loyalty  interfere 
with  my  common  sense.  I  saw  Harvard  row  the 
other  day.  A  good  crew." 

There  was  an  awkward  pause.    Nobody  spoke. 

"I  see  I've  said  the  unpopular  thing."  His 
laugh  had  the  suggestion  of  a  sneer. 

The  little  group  melted  away  and  left  him, 
Eeid  and  Euth  strolling  over  to  the  boat-house, 
where  most  of  the  others  seemed  to  have  gone, 


102  LIFE 

and  Ealph  and  Anna  going  to  look  for  something 
she  had  left  on  top  of  the  coach.  He  swore 
under  his  breath.  He  had  made  up  his  mind  to 
definitely  propose  to  Euth  to-day  and  things 
did  not  seem  to  be  starting  out  well. 

She  had  twice  already  showed  that  his  manner 
displeased  her,  and  here  she  was  practically 
snubbing  him  before  the  others  and  particularly 
before  that  big  booby  who  was  the  idol  of  every 
silly  girl  for  the  moment  just  because  he  hap- 
pened to  be  stroke  of  a  crew.  He  had  taken  a 
violent  dislike  to  him  on  sight,  and  he  was  glad 
to  believe  that  he  had  conveyed  as  much  by  his 
manner.  And  the  airs  the  fool  assumed.  By 
his  manner,  one  might  think  he  was  the  Grand 
Mogul  himself!  He  would  take  a  stroll  by 
himself  along  the  bank  of  the  river  until  he  got 
over  his  irritation  at  things  in  general. 

He  stopped  digging  the  sod  with  his  stick 
and  looked  up  to  see  Grace  standing  gazing  at 
him  from  the  porch,  with  a  smile  that  seemed  to 
comprehend  and  mock  at  his  discomfiture. 

"You!    Here!"  he  said  in  frank  dismay. 

"Tom!"  she  said  appealingly. 

She  had  the  advantage  over  him  of  knowing 
that  she  was  to  see  him.  During  the  time  while 
with  rage  in  her  heart  she  had  been  helping  her 
mother  prepare  the  tea,  she  had  planned  her 
campaign.  But  he  should  have  his  chance  to 
explain,  to  deny  the  rumor  that  she  was  about 
to  be  supplanted. 

* '  Sh !  sh ! "  he  said  under  his  breath,  glancing 


LIFE  103 

hastily  about  to  see  that  they  were  alone. 
"What  are  you  doing  here?" 

"  Where  else  was  there  for  me  to  go,  after — 
after  you  said  you  weren  't  going  to  see  me  any 
more?" 

"I'm  not  the  only  man  in  the  world,"  he  said 
brutally. 

He  did  not  look  at  her,  or  he  would  have  sur- 
prised an  ominous  flash  in  her  black  eyes. 

"You're  the  only  man  in  my  world.  Wasn't 
I  true  to  you  always  f ' ' 

*  *  Sh !  I  explained  to  you  that  we  had  to  part 
only  because  I'd  lost  all  my  money,"  he  went 
on  in  a  changed  tone.  * '  You  know,  dear,  how  I 
love  you,  and  you  only.  Just  as  soon  as  I  get 
some  money  again " 

"When  you  marry  Miss  Stuyvesant,  I  sup- 
pose," she  sneered. 

Burnett  was  genuinely  frightened.  But  he 
set  about  to  extricate  himself  from  his  danger- 
ous position  with  his  customary  boldness. 

"Who  repeated  that  nonsense  to  you?" 

"Never  mind.  It  is  sufficient  that  I  have 
heard  it.  That's  why  you  were  so  anxious  to 
get  me  out  of  New  York.  You  were  afraid  I'd 
hear  it,  and  make  a  row.  I  was  to  be  thrown 
over,  and  in  the  meantime  to  be  sent  to  some 
hole  where  I  wouldn't  hear  of  anything  until  it 
was  too  late.  The  idea  was  clever,  but " 

"Don't  talk  such  damned  nonsense!" 

"Oh,  I  hate  her,  I  hate  her!"  said  Grace  with 
sudden  passion.  "I  hated  her  when  I  first  saw 


104  LIFE 

her  to-day,  when  I  didn't  even  know  who  she 
was!" 

"Hate  her  all  you  please,  I  don't  give  a 
damn.  Now  just  listen  to  me  a  minute.  Try 
to  control  yourself  and  listen  to  reason.  If 
people  find  out  about  you  and  me  in  New  York 
it  will  hurt  just  one  person — yourself.  You 
don 't  want  your  father  and  mother  to  know  the 
life  you've  been  living,  do  you?" 

Before  Grace  could  make  any  answer,  they 
saw  Ralph  Stuyvesant  coming  toward  them  over 
the  lawn.  Grace  made  a  move  to  return  to  the 
house,  but  Burnett  laid  a  detaining  hand  on  her 
arm. 

"Oh,  Ealph,  you  remember  Miss  Andrews, 
don't  you?  Tom  Andrews'  daughter,  Grace!" 

"This  is  Ralph  Stuyvesant.  On  the  crew  a 
few  years  ago." 

Ralph,  who  had  been  turning  out  the  pockets 
of  his  coat  in  a  vain  effort  to  find  something  he 
had  lost,  was  evidently  in  a  temper. 

"Glad  to  meet  you  again,"  he  said  perfunc- 
torily. But  as  he  glanced  surlily  up  at  Grace, 
his  whole  face  became  transformed.  Amazed 
admiration  spoke  from  every  feature  of  his 
face. 

"You— little  Gracie  Andrews!" 

Easily  flattered,  as  she  always  was,  Grace 
rewarded  his  open  admiration  with  a  coquettish 
smile. 

"I  remember  Mr.  Stuyvesant  very  well,"  she 
said  demurely. 


LIFE  105 

"Do  you?  That 's  awfully  good  of  you.  Why, 
you  were  just  a  little  flapper  when  I  was  here. 
And  now "  His  voice  trailed  off  into  an  elo- 
quent silence. 

"I'm  afraid  I  must  be  going  in,"  said  Grace, 
hearing  voices  coming  nearer  from  the  boat- 
house. 

"Oh,  don't  go,  I  haven't  had  a  chance  to  talk 
to  you.  Say,  at  least,  that  I'll  see  you  again 
before  we  start  back. ' ' 

"Au  revoir,  then,"  smiled  Grace,  giving  him 
her  hand. 

"Don't  make  it  too  long,  then,"  Ralph  called 
after  her.  "By  God,  Tom,"  he  said,  turn- 
ing to  Burnett,  "she's  a  peach,  a  perfect 
wonder!" 

"A  peach  that  can  be  picked,"  said  Burnett 
with  a  laugh. 

"  No !    Are  you  sure ! ' ' 

"Oh,  you  married  men!"  said  his  friend 
cynically. 

"Ralph!"  called  a  voice  from  the  river  bank. 

1  *  Good  Lord !  Anna  sent  me  to  get  her  bag ! ' ' 
and  Ralph  hurried  away. 

Out  of  the  boat-house  came  the  chattering 
boys  and  girls,  scattering  in  various  directions. 
Jennie  Bruce,  with  her  faithful  swain  and  her 
box  of  candy,  sank  down  on  the  porch  steps 
with  a  sigh  of  contentment.  Dorothy  Morgan, 
Lillian  Johnson,  Marion  Colfax  and  Alice  Hen- 
derson, all  bright,  pretty  girls,  stood  in  a  group 
in  the  center  of  the  lawn,  surrounded  by  mem- 


106  LIFE 

bers  of  the  crew  with  whom  they  were  flirting 
outrageously  to  the  manifest  displeasure  of  the 
young  fellows  of  their  own  party.  Only  Euth 
and  Bill  Eeid  were  missing. 

"Where's  Ruth?"  asked  Alice  Henderson. 

"I  think  she  went  down  to  the  shore  with  her 
father  and  Colonel  MacLaren,  and  that  man 
who  teaches  you  boys  how  to  row,"  said  Marion 
Coif  ax. 

"She  went  down  to  the  shore  all  right,  but 
not  with  them, ' '  laughed  Harry  Dalton. 

"Who's  with  her,"  said  Burnett  sharply. 

"Oh,  only  Bill  Eeid,"  mocked  Jennie  from 
her  seat  on  the  steps.  "He'll  take  care  of  her, 
Mr.  Burnett,  he 's  so  big  and  strong. ' ' 

"Thank  you  kindly,  but  I  can  take  care  of 
myself,"  called  a  laughing  voice,  as  Euth,  with 
Bill  Eeid,  appeared  at  the  top  of  the  steps  lead- 
ing down  from  the  bluff. 

"Euth,  won't  you  take  a  walk  with  me?" 
asked  Burnett  in  a  low  tone. 

"Not  just  now;  I'm  a  little  tired." 

"  Go  on, "  urged  Alice.  *  *  You  've  been  monop- 
olizing Mr.  Eeid  long  enough.  I  want  to  talk 
to  him  myself." 

"Very  well,  then;  just  to  give  Alice  a  chance, 
I'll  go." 

Her  ungrateful  friend  made  a  face  at  her  as 
she  and  Tom  walked  slowly  away. 

"Euth  doesn't  act  a  bit  like  an  engaged  girl, 
does  she?"  asked  Dorothy  Morgan  innocently. 

"Engaged!"  demanded  Eeid  in  a  startled 


LIFE  107 

tone  which  he  tried  vainly  to  hide  in  a  laugh. 
"I — I  mean  how  does  an  engaged  girl  act?" 

"Well,  that's  pretty  hard  to  show  you  in  a 
crowd  like  this." 

"Is  everybody  here  engaged!" 

"No,  no,  no!  I'm  not,  I'm  not,  nor  I," 
screamed  Marion,  Alice  and  Lillian  together. 

"Help!  Help!" 

"I'll  protect  you,"  cried  the  gallant  Jimmy, 
hurling  himself  down  from  the  step  and  posing 
in  an  heroic  attitude  before  the  big  stroke,  amid 
the  cheers  and  laughter  of  the  others. 

"Jimmy,  you're  such  a  goose!  Let  me  ex- 
plain things,  Mr.  Keid,"  said  Jennie,  sweeping 
majestically  down  upon  them.  "Kuth  is  en- 
gaged to  Tom  Burnett,  and  Dorothy,  here,  to 
Harry  Dalton,  and " 

"And  you,  yourself,  to "  began  Keid. 

"No,  I'm  not  engaged  to  anybody.  Jimmy 
has  tried  five  indistinct  times  to  ask  me;  but 
each  time  his  tongue  gets  so  twisted  he  can't  get 
it  out.  It's  awful!" 

"Th-th-th-th "  began  little  Jones  indig- 
nantly. 

"There  he  goes  again:  time  number  six." 

"I-I-I-I " 

"Never  mind,  Jimmy.  I  can  wait.  Do  you 
know  I  believe  he  sort  of  likes  me?" 

"I  think  everybody  must  like  you." 

"Look  out,  Jimmy,"  said  Dorothy  mali- 
ciously, "I  should  think  the  stroke  of  a  Yale 
crew  could  win  any  girl  away." 


108  LIFE 

"That  will  be  about  all  for  you,"  admonished 
young  Dalton  severely. 

"You're  right,  Harry.  She  should  give  the 
rest  of  us  a  chance, ' '  agreed  Alice. 

"Go  it,  girls :  you'll  have  a  hard  time  catching 
this  old  woman  hater, ' '  chimed  in  Fred  Hender- 
son, Alice's  brother. 

"Woman  hater!  You!!  Oh,  Mr.  Keid,  it 
can't  be  true,"  cried  the  girls  in  a  chorus, 
gathering  round  him. 

1 '  Don 't  you  believe  it,  girls.  I  love, ' '  he  made 
a  sweeping  gesture,  "all  of  'em." 

"Oh!" 

"All  of  'em  just  the  same?"  queried  Marion. 

"  No,  indeed;  all  differently." 

"Wait  a  minute,  girls.  I  have  a  great  idea: 
I'll  auction  him  off!" 

And  with  a  hasty  look  around  to  find  the  most 
suitable  place  for  an  auction-block,  Fred  Hen- 
derson sprang  upon  the  box  of  the  coach  from 
which  the  horses  had  been  unhitched,  just  as 
Ruth  and  Burnett  returned  from  their  walk. 

"Ladies,"  he  announced  in  a  pompous  voice, 
"the  first  piece  of  property  I  have  to  offer  you 
to-day  is  one  fine,  large,  handsome  young  man — 
Silence,  please,  we  must  have  order!"  in  re- 
sponse to  hoots  and  catcalls  from  the  other 
men,  "where  was  I?  Oh,  yes — handsome  young 
man,  the  most  popular  student  in  Yale,  captain 
of  the  crew,  and  halfback  on  the  football  team. 
He  has  fought  through  four  years'  campaign  of 
summer  girls  and  college  widows  and  not  one 


LIFE  109 

of  them  has  got  his  number.  Come  on  now, 
ladies.  Come  on  now,  ladies,  start  something, 
and  start  it  up  big.  What  am  I  bid  ?  Give  me 
a  bid !  Give  me  a  bid ! ' ' 

"Five  pounds  of  chocolates — nearly  com- 
plete," called  Jennie  Bruce. 

"Why,  ladies!"  scolded  the  indignant  auc- 
tioneer, "five  pounds  of  chocolates  for  the 
pride  of  Yale !  No,  no :  it  will  have  to  be  some- 
thing sweeter  than  chocolates." 

"One  blonde "  began  Lillian. 

"Ah,  that's  better.  That's  something  like. 
One  blonde,  one  blonde.  Are  there  no  other 
bids  ?  Nobody  else  want  to  bid  I ' ' 

"One  brunette — with  a  loving  heart,"  cried 
Alice,  going  her  friend  one  better. 

"A  loving  heart — accompanied  by  one  bru- 
nette. That's  better.  That's  what  we  want. 
That's  what  we're  after.  One  loving  heart. 
One  loving  heart.  Do  I  hear  anything  else  ?  Do 
I  hear  anything  more?" 

"One  beautiful  brown-haired  girl  would  ex- 
change an  oarsman  named  Harry,"  was  the 
offer  of  the  modest  Dorothy. 

"  Don 't  know  what  we  can  do  about  exchanges. 
Still — One  beautiful  brown-haired  girl.  One 
brown-haired — excuse  me,  ladies — one  beautiful 
brown-haired ' ' 

"Wait  a  minute,"  called  Euth.  "May  any- 
one bid?" 

"Sure." 

"One  redhead — with  a  temper." 


110  LIFE 

* '  Oh,  one  redhead  with  a  temper.  Do  we  hear 
anything  else?  One  redhead  with  a  temper. 
One  redhead  with  a  temper,  once!  One  red- 
head with  a  temper,  twice!  One  redhead  with 
a  temper,  third,  and  last  time!  Going,  going, 
going " 

"Gone!"  said  Bill  Reid's  clear  voice. 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  declared  the  auc- 
tioneer in  the  midst  of  the  general  laughter,  ' '  I 
declare  Bill  Eeid  sold  to  one  redhead  with  a 
temper. ' ' 

"Now  you've  got  him,  what  are  you  going  to 
do  with  him?"  asked  Jennie  with  an  interested 
air. 

Ruth  gave  a  little,  embarrassed  laugh.  For 
a  moment  the  lovely  color  flooded  her  eager 
young  face.  She  looked  up  into  the  face  of  her 
newly  acquired  purchase,  and  again  their  eyes 
met  bravely. 

"  I — I  haven't  quite  decided.  I'll  come  for 
him — later." 

"He'll  be  waiting,"  said  Bill  Eeid  so  softly 
that  none  but  she  could  hear. 

"I  don't  know,"  confided  Jennie  Bruce  to  the 
few  remaining  chocolates  in  the  box,  "but  I'm 
inclined  to  think  that  that  was  a  genuine  sale!" 


CHAPTER 


AT  this  moment  a  diversion  caused  by  the 
appearance  of  Hampton  with  two  magnificent 
Russian  wolfhounds  gave  Ruth  a  chance  to 
escape.  All  the  others  gathered  round  the  coach 
with  exclamations  on  the  beauty  of  the  two  ani- 
mals. Reid  went  quickly  up  onto  the  porch  and 
sat  on  the  railing,  his  head  against  a  post.  He 
wanted  to  be  quite  alone  for  a  little.  If  Ruth 
had  the  same  wish,  she  was  less  lucky  than  he. 
No  sooner  had  she  reached  the  edge  of  the  lawn 
than  Burnett  was  beside  her. 

"Ruth,  you  shouldn't  have  done  it."  He  was 
putting  a  strong  restraint  on  himself,  but  it  was 
plain  that  he  was  angry. 

"It  was  all  a  joke.  The  other  girls  were  bid- 
ding, too,"  she  said  indifferently. 

'  '  It  made  me  look  ridiculous.  '  ' 

"Really?  I'm  sure  I  don't  see  why  it  should. 
But  I  can  see  that  you're  making  yourself 
ridiculous  now,"  she  said  with  rising  temper. 
And  then  recalling  the  absurd  bid,  "one  red- 
head —  with  a  temper,"  she  laughed  softly  to 
herself,  her  good  humor  completely  restored. 

"You  said  you  were  coming  back  to  get  him." 

1  '  Well,  '  '  she  said  teasingly,  '  '  a  man  that  a  girl 
has  been  able  to  get  is  always  interesting." 

"He's  a  cheap,  common  mucker.  Why,  when 
ill 


112  LIFE 

lie  first  came  to  Yale  he  tended  furnaces  and 
waited  on  table." 

''I  didn't  know  that.  I  can  only  tell  you  that 
if  he  had  the  grit  and  courage  to  work  his  way 
through  college,  I'm  glad  to  know  it.  I  admire 
him  for  it." 

"I  hate  to  hear  you  raving  about  another 
man!" 

"Don't  be  silly." 

"  I  hope  you  don't  see  him  again  very  soon,  at 
any  rate." 

"You're  making  him  terribly  interesting." 

I  *  Euth !    Do  you  think  it  fair  to  treat  me  this 
way  when  things  are  as  they  are  between  us?" 

"And  may  I  ask  just  how  you  consider  things 
are  between  us?  It  occurs  to  me  that  you  are 
taking  a  great  deal  for  granted ! ' ' 

"Ruth!  You  know  that  I've  thought  of  you 
as  my  future  wife  for  years.  Your  father 
wishes  it.  All  our  friends  approve. " 

I 1  Yes,  I  know  all  that, ' '  she  said  coldly.   "Has 
it  never  occurred  to  you  that  I  might — might 
want  to  be  consulted  about  it?" 

"Why,  you  knew  that  I  was  in  love  with  you. 
Euth,  I  swear  that  there 's  never  been  any  other 
girl  of  any  kind  that  I've  given  a  thought  to," 
he  lied.  Again,  Euth's  rising  anger  was  calmed 
by  some  secret  thought. 

"I  believe  you,  Tom,"  she  said  kindly.  "I 
know  you  are  always  straightforward  and 
honorable,  and  I  on  my  part  have  never  thought 
of  any  other  man.  I  am  to  blame,  as  well  as 


LIFE  113 

yourself,  in  a  way.  I've  let  things  drift.  I 
knew  what  people  were  saying.  But  as  long  as 
there  was  no  other  person — why,  we've  both 
grown  sort  of  used  to  looking  forward  to  each 
other  that  way.  You  want  me  to  be  quite  frank, 
don't  you!" 

"Of  course." 

For  a  moment  she  hesitated,  smiling  to  her- 
self. 

"Well — now,  don't  laugh  at  me — somehow 
there  isn't  any  thrill  in  thinking  of  you  in  that 
way,  that  I  always  imagined  there  must  be  when 
a  person's  in  love." 

"Nonsense." 

"I  mean  it.  You  know  I  believe  that  every 
girl  dreams  that  some  day  she's  going  to  meet 
some  man — she  doesn't  know  how,  nor  when, 
nor  where — but  when  they  meet,  they  are  going 
to  look  into  each  other's  eyes,  and  just  know 
that  they  were  intended  for  each  other  from  the 
first,  from  the  beginning  of  time.  That 's  love ! ' ' 

"Eomantic  nonsense,  my  dear,"  laughed 
Tom. 

She  made  no  reply,  and  looking  up  at  her,  he 
saw  that  she  was  looking  straight  across  at  the 
porch  where  Reid,  standing  with  his  fine  head 
thrown  back,  was  giving  her  back  her  look. 

* '  Euth,  Euth !  Give  me  my  chance.  We  can 't 
talk  here  with  all  these  people  running  about. 
Come  with  me  for  a  row  on  the  river,"  he 
pleaded. 

Euth  brought  her  eyes  back  to  his. 


114  LIFE 

"Very  well,"  she  said  simply. 

On  the  way  down  to  the  landing,  they  met 
Mr.  Stuyvesant  and  Colonel  MacLaren  still 
disputing  about  some  long-forgotten  sporting 
event. 

"Tom  wants  to  take  me  for  a  row  on  the 
river." 

"All  right.  I'd  trust  you  anywhere  with 
Tom,"  said  her  father  significantly. 

"Suppose  you  upset  me  in  the  water;  you 
know  I  can't  swim,"  said  Euth  as  she  was  tak- 
ing her  place  in  the  boat. 

"Then  I'd  rescue  you,  and  you'd  have  to 
marry  me  out  of  gratitude." 

"Oh,  I'm  sure  that  I'd  marry  any  man  who 
saved  me  from  drowning!" 

"It's  a  promise,  then?" 

"Yes,  I'll  marry  the  man  who  saves  me." 

"  Oh,  look,  there  go  Ruth  and  Tom  Burnett. 
I  wish  somebody 'd  take  me  rowing,"  com- 
plained Dorothy  Morgan  from  the  porch,  where 
most  of  the  party  had  now  gathered  invading 
Eeid's  privacy  and  intruding  upon  dreams 
which  he  hardly  dared  to  dream  when  alone. 

"That's  a  silly  thing  for  Tom  to  do,"  said 
Ralph  with  annoyance.  "He  can't  row  much, 
and  he  can  hardly  swim  at  all." 

"He  can't!"  exclaimed  Reid,  springing  to  his 
feet. 

"No,  neither  can  Ruth.  But  I  guess  it's  all 
right.  Father  let  her  go,  and  the  river's 
smooth." 


LIFE  115 

He  drifted  away  to  one  of  the  other  groups. 
Soon  the  light  laughter  and  chatter  began  again. 
Only  Bill  Reid  stood  apart  in  the  shadow,  his 
eyes  on  the  river. 

On  a  rustic  bench  under  the  tree,  Mr.  Stuyve- 
sant  and  his  old  friend  were  having  the  finest 
dispute  of  the  day.  To  one  who  did  not  know 
them,  it  must  have  seemed  only  a  matter  of  mo- 
ments until  they  were  at  one  another's  throats. 
The  next  instant  there  came  the  sound  of  a 
woman's  scream  and  the  confused  clatter  of 
excited  voices  from  the  porch. 

"What's  the  matter?"  called  Mr.  Stuyvesant, 
springing  to  his  feet. 

"Ruth  and  Tom,  father,"  Ralph  answered. 
His  voice  was  husky  with  excitement  and  fear. 
"Tom's  having  trouble " 

"It's  going  over,  it's  going  over!"  shrieked 
Anna,  wringing  her  hands. 

The  whole  place  was  in  an  uproar  of  shrieks, 
exclamations,  prayers  and  curses.  Old  Mrs. 
Andrews,  who  had  rushed  out  of  the  house  with 
Grace  at  the  first  alarm,  was  kneeling  on  the 
ground  by  the  steps,  her  apron  over  her  head, 
objurgating  and  imploring  the  Almighty  by 
turns  at  the  top  of  her  voice. 

Occasionally,  disjointed  cries  and  exclama- 
tions detached  themselves  from  the  general  clut- 
ter of  sound:  "He's  crazy:  he  don't  know  what 
he's  doing!"  "Sit  still,  Ruth,  don't  jump,"— 
this  in  Ralph's  throaty  voice,  raised  now  to  a 
sort  of  Banshee  wail.  "Steady,  Burnett,  keep 


116  LIFE 

your  head."  "What  a  God  damned  fool." 
"My  God,  they'll  both  be  drowned." 

But  above  them  all  could  be  heard  Bill  Reid's 
clear,  resonant  voice.  He  was  standing  on  top 
of  the  porch  railing,  like  a  captain  on  his  bridge, 
calling  directions  to  Burnett,  through  a  trumpet 
made  of  his  hands. 

"Pull  on  your  right  oar,  man.  Your  right! 
Your  right!  Steady,  steady!  Keep  pulling 
on  your  right." 

And  out  on  the  little  bench  under  the  tree 
were  two  old,  old  men.  The  one,  his  face  buried 
in  his  hands,  sobbing :  ' '  My  God — My  little  girl 
— My  Ruth!"  the  other,  the  tears  streaming 
down  his  face,  endeavoring  to  comfort  him  by 
patting  him  on  the  back  and  babbling  that 
"boats  didn't  upset  nowadays,  that  they 
were  too  well  built,  that  he  hadn't  heard  of  a 
drowning  accident  for  years,"  and  similar 
idiocies. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  general  gasp,  as  if 
everyone  had  on  the  same  instant  felt  the  need 
of  taking  breath — and  then  a  silence.  The  boat 
had  upset.  From  a  long  way  off  came  a  faint 
cry  of  "Help!  Help!"  in  Ruth's  voice.  Mr. 
Stuyvesant  lifted  his  old,  tear-bloated  face  from 
his  hands  in  time  to  see  Bill  Reid  leap  from  the 
rail  and  dash  down  to  the  shore,  pulling  off  his 
coat  as  he  ran.  A  new  hope  galvanized  him  into 
a  semblance  of  his  old  self,  and  brought  the 
color  of  life  back  to  his  livid  lips. 

Again  the  porch  was  a  babel  of  tongues.    But 


LIFE  117 

now  the  tones  were  vibrant  with  hope.  The 
note  of  anguish  was  hushed. 

* '  See,  see !  Burnett 's  reached  the  boat !  He 's 
trying  to  push  it  toward  her!  Oh,  why  can't 
he  swim!" 

And  then,  with  a  sudden  ecstatic  shout:  "It's 
Bill !  Go  it,  Bill,  go  it !  Oh,  you  Bill  Reid ! ' ' 

"Now  he's  almost  to  her.  She's  shaking  her 
head.  Faster,  faster,  Bill  Reid !  Ah,  my  God, 
she's  down!" 

Many  of  the  women  hid  their  heads.  Mr. 
Stuyvesant  reeled  on  his  feet.  There  came  a 
delirious  cry  from  Ralph: 

' '  She 's  come  up  again,  there  she  is,  there  she 
is!" 

"He's  nearly  there!  He's — he's  got  her! 
Bill  Reid's  got  her!!" 

"A-a-a-a-h!" 

There  was  a  breath-caught  silence  for  a  sec- 
ond, and  then  a  cheer  such  as  the  old  training 
quarters  had  never  heard  tore  the  air. 

"HOORAY,  H-0-O-R-A-Y!!!" 

All  this  time  Grace  had  been  standing  leaning 
against  a  pillar  of  the  porch,  staring,  staring, 
with  eyes  that  saw  nothing,  at  the  stretch  of 
water.  As  the  ringing  cheer  broke  on  her  ears, 
she  gave  a  little  moan  and  buried  her  face  in 
her  hands. 

"Tom,  oh  Tom!" 

With  a  wrenching  effort  she  uncovered  her 
face  and  forced  herself  to  look  again.  Reid,  with 
the  unconscious  girl  in  his  arms,  had  just 


118  LIFE 

stepped  ashore,  and  Tom,  the  water  no  higher 
than  his  waist,  was  not  far  behind. 

"Thank  God,  he's  safe  too,"  she  murmured, 
and,  hardly  knowing  what  she  did,  she  let  her- 
self be  swept  along  with  the  crowd  who  were 
pouring  down  the  steps  to  meet  their  darling 
hero,  Mr.  Stuyvesant  at  their  head. 

Up,  up  he  came,  laughing  as  he  tried  to  shake 
the  dripping  hair  out  of  his  eyes,  Euth  lying  in 
his  arms,  a  limp,  wet  figure  with  closed  eyes. 

"My  little  girl,  my  little  girl !"  whispered  her 
father,  holding  out  his  arms. 

"She's  all  right,"  called  Eeid  reassuringly. 
"She's  just  fainted,  that's  all." 

But  the  sight  of  the  unconscious  figure  was  too 
much  for  some  of  the  other  girls,  in  their  semi- 
hysterical  state. 

"She's  dead,  she's  dead,  I  know  she  is!" 
shrieked  Dorothy. 

"She's  so  white!"  sobbed  Alice. 

"What  can  we  do!"  whimpered  Lillian, 
wringing  her  hands. 

"Why  not  keep  quiet ?  I  tell  you  she's  all 
right,"  said  Eeid  soothingly,  as  he  as  gently  as 
possible  shoved  a  way  for  himself  and  his  bur- 
den through  the  clustering  women,  to  get  into 
the  house  where  Euth  could  receive  proper  at- 
tention. 

"I— I— I— I "  began  little  Jones,  fairly 

dancing  in  his  excitement. 

"That  will  do,"  said  Jennie  sternly.  "You 
can  tell  us  all  about  yourself  later.  The  best 


LIFE  119 

thing  you  can  do  now  is  to  go  and  find  some 
whisky  somewhere." 

"That's  the  idea,"  said  Hampton  heartily. 
"And  take  her  and  wrap  her  in  blankets.  She'll 
be  all  right." 

"But  whatever  will  she  do  for  clothes?" 
asked  Alice. 

"If  I  took  off  another  thing "  began 

Dorothy,  when  Mrs.  Andrews  came  to  the 
rescue. 

"Sure  the  poor  darlin'  can  have  some  of 
Gracie's.  You  could  lend  Miss  Stuyvesant 
something,  couldn't  you,  dear?"  she  asked, 
turning  to  Grace  and  furtively  wiping  her  eyes 
with  the  corner  of  her  apron. 

For  a  moment  Grace  hesitated.  Her  eyes 
were  fastened  on  Burnett,  a  dripping,  dejected 
figure,  coming  slowly  toward  them.  No  one  was 
paying  the  slightest  attention  to  him. 

"Certainly;  if  my  poor  things  are  good 
enough  for  Miss  Stuyvesant, ' '  she  said  in  a  tone 
of  mock  humility. 

But  she  remained  standing  where  she  was, 
still  looking  at  Burnett,  who,  without  seeming 
to  be  conscious  of  her  presence,  stalked  by  her 
into  the  house.  Most  of  the  young  people  were 
still  too  excited  to  remain  inactive.  Some  of 
them  ran  down  to  the  shore  to  look  at  the  place 
where  the  overturned  boat  had  been  hauled  up ; 
others  gathered  around  Mr.  Stuyvesant,  now 
nearly  himself  again,  shaking  his  hand  and 
felicitating  him  on  Ruth's  escape;  still  others 


120  LIFE 

gathered  in  little  knots  and  went  over  the  thrill- 
ing events  of  a  moment  before,  telling  what  had 
been  their  various  emotions  as  the  boat  upset, 
as  Euth  sank  from  sight,  and  when  Bill  Eeid 
dashed  to  the  rescue. 

And  still  Grace  made  no  move  to  get  the  prom- 
ised things  He  had  dared  to  pass  her  without 
even  a  look,  when  he  must  have  known  how  she 
had  suffered  during  those  dreadful  moments 
when  he  was  in  such  deadly  peril.  The  fool !  Did 
he  think  that  she  lacked  the  courage  to  take  the 
obvious  revenge  that  lay  to  her  hand  ?  For  the 
moment  the  rage  that  consumed  her,  making  her 
head  burn  as  if  it  were  on  fire  while  her  whole 
body  was  deadly  cold,  made  all  other  considera- 
tions seem  petty  by  comparison.  Father, 
mother,  reputation,  all  were  as  nothing  when 
weighed  in  the  scales  against  her  overwhelming 
desire  to  ruin  her  erstwhile  lover  and  crush  her 
insolently  pampered  rival  at  one  fell  swoop ! 

"I  heard  you  scream  above  all  the  others 
when  the  boat  went  over,"  said  an  insinuating 
voice  at  her  elbow.  It  was  Ealph. 

"Did  I  scream?   I  suppose  I  was  frightened." 

"May  I  say  that  you  are  very  beautiful  when 
you  are  frightened?"  Ealph  lowered  his  voice 
so  that  his  father,  who  refused  to  be  kept  out  of 
the  house  a  moment  longer,  could  not  hear. 

"You  didn't  say  anything  like  that  to  me 
when. you  were  here  five  years  ago." 

The  glance  she  gave  him  had  stirred  the  blood 
of  stronger  men  than  he. 


LIFE  121 

"I  was  a  fool  five  years  ago,"  said  Ealph 
hotly.  "I  couldn't  appreciate  a  girl  like  you 
then." 

Over  in  the  corner  of  the  porch  Dorothy,  who 
was  talking  with  Harry  Dalton  while  watching 
Ralph's  eager  face,  raised  her  eyebrows  in- 
quiringly. 

"Oh,  he  never  overlooks  a  bet!"  was  Harry's 
comment,  as  he  followed  her  glance. 

"Wouldn't  you  like  to  come  to  New  York 
to  live?  "  went  on  Ealph. 

Before  Grace  could  reply,  the  voice  of  Jen- 
nie Bruce,  politely  ironical,  came  from  the  door- 
way. 

"I'm  sorry  to  interrupt,  but  if  you  could 
bring  the  things " 

"How  very  stupid  of  me,  I'm  sure  I  beg  your 
pardon,"  said  Grace,  starting  to  go  into  the 
house.  "  Again,  it  is  au  revoir,"  she  said  in 
a  low  tone  with  her  most  coquettish  smile. 

For  a  moment  Mr.  Stuyvesant  blocked  her 
passage. 

"Everything's  lovely.  She's  coming  around 
finely.  Only  Hampton,  who  is  something  of  a 
doctor  as  well  as  a  coach,  thinks  she  ought  to 
rest  quietly  for  a  while." 

There  was  a  general  clapping  of  hands  and 
cries  of  "Splendid!"  and  "That's  fine!" 

"I  beg  your  pardon, ' '  he  said,  making  way  for 
Grace. 

At  the  door,  once  more  she  and  Burnett  came 
face  to  face. 


122  LIFE 

It  was  plain  that  he  was  still  deeply  chagrined, 
in  spite  of  an  assumed  bravado.  He  was  wear- 
ing a  jersey  and  an  old  pair  of  trousers  which 
did  not  make  him  appear  to  advantage. 

His  semi-jocular,  *  *  Sorry  to  have  spoiled  the 
party,"  was  received  in  chilling  silence. 

"All  right,  are  you?"  said  one  of  the  men 
carelessly  after  a  moment. 

Burnett  saw  his  mistake.  Turning  to  Mr. 
Stuyvesant  with  something  very  like  genuine 
emotion,  he  said: 

"Mr.  Stuyvesant,  I  don't  know  what  to  say. 
Somehow  I  lost  control  of  the  boat  and  the  next 
thing  we  were  in  the  water.  I  can't  swim. 
I  tried  to  get  the  boat  to  her.  My  God, 

it's  a  nightmare!  If  she  had If  the 

worst  had  happened "  he  finished  with  a 

shudder. 

"I  understand,  Tom,"  said  the  old  gentle- 
man, putting  his  hand  affectionately  on  his 
shoulder.  "I  know  just  how  you  feel.  It  was 
just  an  unfortunate  accident.  It  will  make  no 
difference  to  any  of  us.  Don't  let  us  think 
any  more  about  it." 

"  Thank  you,  sir!" 

Grace,  having  picked  out  from  the  modest 
contents  of  her  trunk  the  dress  which  she  judged 
would  be  the  most  unbecoming  to  Ruth 's  general 
coloring,  slipped  out  of  the  house  by  the  back 
way,  having  no  wish  to  see  Burnett  again  for  the 
moment.  Besides,  she  wanted  to  be  by  herself 
for  a  little  and  think  things  over.  The  idea  of 


LIFE  123 

utilizing  Ralph  in  her  general  scheme  for  pay- 
ing off  her  score  against  both  Ruth  and  Tom 
seemed  fraught  with  possibilities.  There  was 
no  mistaking  his  manner.  Too  many  men  had 
looked  at  her  before  with  wolfish  eyes  for  her 
to  have  any  doubts  on  that  subject.  And  Grace 
was  no  prude,  and  had  the  courage  to  look 
things  in  the  face,  when  she  was  communing 
with  her  own  thoughts. 

From  time  to  time  stories  of  Ralph's  affairs 
with  women  had  come  to  her  ears.  According 
to  the  common  report,  he  was  as  changeable  as 
he  was  weak;  but  he  was  also  prodigally  gen- 
erous. It  was  said  that  no  woman  had  ever  been 
able  to  hold  him  for  long.  Indeed !  Grace,  who 
was  never  guilty  of  self -depreciation,  was  pre- 
pared to  back  herself  to  hold  him  as  long  as  it 
should  serve  her  purpose.  And  her  real  pur- 
pose, as  she  acknowledged  to  herself,  was,  after 
all,  to  get  Tom  back.  The  woman  did  not  live 
who  should  be  permitted  to  steal  him  from  her 
for  long.  In  the  meantime,  she  would  take  toll 
from  all  of  them  in  one  way  or  another.  She 
was  by  no  means  naturally  fastidious,  but  there 
was  something  about  Ralph's  general  appear- 
ance, his  shortness  of  stature,  his  lack  of  physi- 
cal impressiveness,  that  made  her  mentally  char- 
acterize him  as  "a  miserable  little  shrimp." 
Her  meditations  were  suddenly  brought  to  an 
end  by  the  voice  of  the  gentleman  thus  flatter- 
ingly described. 

"I  saw  you  coming  round  the  corner  of  the 


124  LIFE 

house.  I  don't  mind  confessing  that  I  was 
watching  for  you.  Will  you  forgive  me  ? ' ' 

"Forgive  you!  What  is  there  to  forgive? 
Besides,  I  can't  help  feeling  flattered  that  you 
should  take  a  passing  interest  in  a  poor  girl 
like  me." 

"A  passing  interest!  Ah,  you  don't  know  me. 
Tell  me,  how  would  you  like  to  come  to  New 
York  to  live?" 

"How  would  I  like  it?"  she  repeated  eagerly. 
"But  why  do  you  say  such  things,  Mr.  Stuy- 
vesant,  when  you  must  see  that  for  me  it  is 
impossible?" 

"I  don't  see  that  at  all,  particularly  since  I 
could  easily  make  it  possible,  if  you'll  only  let 
me  help  you." 

"No,  no!  I  couldn't  do  that.  A  girl  who  does 
that — well,  it  leads  to  too  much." 

As  they  talked,  they  slowly  made  their  way 
over  to  a  little  ornamental  summer-house  stand- 
ing on  a  knoll  some  distance  from  the  house 
from  which,  while  more  or  less  screened  by  the 
vines  which  covered  it  from  the  observation  of 
the  people  out  on  the  lawn,  they  themselves 
could  keep  a  watchful  eye  on  the  crowd  below 
them  in  case  they  should  be  missed. 

But  almost  hidden  as  they  were,  they  had  not 
escaped  the  watchful  eye  of  Burnett.  He  had 
been  by  no  means  oblivious  of  Grace's  black 
looks,  and,  now  that  he  had  sufficiently  recov- 
ered from  his  own  personal  discomfiture  over 
the  unfortunate  accident  in  which  he  had  played 


LIFE  125 

so  sorry  a  part  to  give  some  thought  to  her,  he 
had  wisely  decided  that  she  must  be  placated 
one  way  or  another,  at  least  for  the  present. 

He  had  always  considered  that  an  angry 
woman  was  one  of  those  forces  of  nature  upon 
whose  action  the  wise  man  takes  no  unneces- 
sary chances.  Grace  must  be  soothed,  her  sus- 
picions lulled  to  sleep  until  such  time  as  he 
could  make  her  see  that  there  was  nothing  in 
his  plans  for  the  future  that  need  in  any  way 
alter  their  relations. 

He  had  intended  all  along  telling  her  that  he 
was  going  to  marry  Ruth  because  her  money 
was  absolutely  necessary  for  the  furtherance  of 
his  ambitions,  but  he  had  expected  to  break  the 
news  to  her  once  she  had  settled  upon  the  place 
of  her  temporary  exile.  Coming  upon  her  on 
this  accursed  outing  had  been  as  disconcerting 
as  it  was  unexpected. 

His  eye  having  been  caught  by  a  woman's 
light  dress,  only  partly  hidden  by  the  vine- 
covered  arbor,  he  had  easily  recognized  the 
charming  outline  of  the  head  of  the  wearer.  One 
swift  glance  about  him  had  failed  to  discover 
the  presence  of  Ralph.  To  him  too,  and  not  for 
the  first  time,  had  come  the  thought  that  Ralph 
might  be  most  useful  in  the  present  juncture. 

Having  no  foolish  scruples  about  eavesdrop- 
ping, he  had  made  a  wide  detour,  arriving  be- 
hind the  arbor  in  time  to  hear  Ralph  say,  in  his 
most  persuasive  tones: 

1  '  Suppose  you  think  it  over.    What 's  here  for 


126  LIFE 

you?  Nothing  but  to  grow  old  and  die  of  dry 
rot.  Think  of  the  city,  of  the  cafes,  the  theaters, 
and  all  sorts  of  jolly  times.  That's  life,  while 
this "  he  made  a  sweeping  gesture  of  con- 
tempt. 

"But  how  can  a  poor  girl  ever  hope  to  have 
all  that?" 

Grace's  assumption  of  country-bred  innocence 
almost  made  Burnett  laugh  aloud. 

"That's  for  me  to  show  you,"  said  Ealph, 
getting  possession  of  her  reluctant  hand. 
"Don't  you  think  that  you  could  trust  me! 
I  mean,"  as  she  still  hesitated  with  downcast 
eyes,  "couldn't  you  trust  yourself  with  me?" 

"Y-e-s,"  she  said  slowly,  flashing  an  eloquent 
glance  at  his  flushed  face,  "I  think  I  could  trust 
myself  with  you." 

Ealph 's  natural  response  was  to  take  her  in 
his  arms.  Their  lips  met  in  a  long  kiss. 

Burnett  judged  it  time  to  make  his  presence 
known.  Having  slipped  away  a  short  distance, 
he  suddenly  appeared  from  around  the  corner. 

"Where  the  devil  did  you  come  from?"  de- 
manded Ealph  crossly. 

Grace  looked  becomingly  confused. 

"I'm  sorry  to  interrupt  this  little  party,  but 
your  wife's  been  looking  for  you  everywhere." 

"Oh,  damn "  said  Ealph,  getting  slowly 

to  his  feet. 

For  a  moment  Grace  met  Burnett's  quizzical 
look  with  one  of  open  defiance.  How  much 
had  he  overheard?  Not  for  a  second  did  she 


LIFE  127 

believe  that  he  had  just  come  upon  them  as  his 
manner  implied.  Very  well,  let  him  make  the 
most  of  it!  Perhaps  he  would  realize  at  last 
that  if  she  had  been  true  to  him,  it  had  only  been 
because  she  had  chosen  to  be.  There  were 
plenty  of  richer  men  whom  she  could  have  had 
by  merely  crooking  her  little  finger.  Even  this 
miserable  little  creature  was  the  son  of  a  multi- 
millionaire. If  it  was  to  be  war  between  them, 
it  was  well  to  know  it  as  soon  as  possible.  Why 
on  earth  didn't  the  little  beast  go  on  about  his 
business  in  place  of  standing  there  as  confused 
as  a  child  caught  stealing  jam ! 

"I — I  was  just  trying  to  persuade  Miss  An- 
drews that  she  ought  to  come  to  New  York," 
said  Ralph  awkwardly. 

"Why,  I  think  that's  a  splendid  idea,"  his 
friend  assured  him. 

His  words  cut  Grace  like  a  knife.  For  the  mo- 
ment, all  of  her  new-found  spirit  of  revolt  died 
within  her.  It  was  all  she  could  do  to  keep  back 
the  tears  at  the  cynical  callosity  of  his  tone. 

With  a  murmured  excuse  about ' '  being  needed 
in  the  house,"  she  hurried  away. 

"What  luck?"   asked   Burnett. 

"She's  an  angel!"  declared  Ralph  raptur- 
ously. 

"Y-e-s,  only  remember,  my  boy,  angels  come 
high." 

There  came  the  discordant  clang  of  a  bell. 

* '  Ladies  and  gents !  Supper,  supper ! ' '  called 
Mrs.  Andrews. 


128  LIFE 

From  where  they  stood  they  could  see  the 
girls  and  fellows,  all  the  terror  of  an  hour  be- 
fore forgotten  as  completely  as  if  it  had  all 
been  nothing  more  than  a  bad  dream,  forming 
in  a  double  line  and  dancing  up  to  the  house  to 
the  tune  of  an  improvised  march  sung  at  the  tops 
of  their  voices. 

"R-a-1-p-h!  T-o-m!"  called  the  voice  of  Mr. 
Stuyvesant. 

*  *  Aren  't  you  coming  in  ? ' ' 

"No,  thanks,  I'm  not  hungry,"  said  Burnett, 
turning  on  his  heel  and  puffing  his  cigar  into  a 
red  glow  so  that  Grace  might  see  it  from  the 
window. 


CHAPTER  IX 

SHE  came,  as  he  knew  she  would ;  vainly  try- 
ing to  mask,  under  a  cold  and  indifferent  ex- 
terior, the  storm  of  jealousy  that  was  consum- 
ing her. 

"I  thought  possibly  you  might  have  some- 
thing to  say  to  me,  as  that  little  fool  inter- 
rupted us  the  only  time  I  have  had  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  you  to-day." 

"And  so  you're  coming  back  to  town  under, 
other — what  shall  I  say? — auspices." 

Grace  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "You  seem 
amazed,"  she  mocked  him  in  turn.  "He's  been 
trying  to  flirt  with  me  all  day,"  she  said  with 
a  sort  of  angry  scorn. 

"Not  altogether  unsuccessfully,  I  should 
gather.  Well,  why  don't  you?" 

"So  that's  what  your  love  has  come  to! 
After  all  I've  been  to  you.  Now,  you'd  toss  me 

over  to  another  man  as  though  I Oh, 

Tom,  how  can  you?" 

He  drew  her  a  little  further  away  from  the 
house. 

"Listen,  Grace  dearest,"  he  said  in  the  low, 
caressing  tone  she  so  well  remembered,  hold- 
ing both  her  hands  in  his,  "I'm  talking  for  your 
own  good,  because  I  love  you  as  much  as  ever. 
He's  young,  and  a  fool — a  rich  fool  to  boot. 


130  LIFE 

You  can  wind  him  round  your  finger.  You'll 
have  everything  that  I  can't  hope  to  give  you: 
jewels,  a  beautiful  apartment,  servants,  motors 
— you  can  get  rich  yourself." 

' '  I  can 't  stand  him !    I  hate  him ! " 

"Many  a  pretty  girl  marries  a  man  she  hates 
for  money.  Why,  you  know  I'm  not  in  love 
with  her  myself  and  yet  I've  got  to  marry  Ruth 
Stuyvesant."  Then,  as  he  felt  her  shudder,  he 
took  her  in  his  arms.  "I'm  doing  the  same 
thing.  And  there's  one  thing  you're  forgetting. 
He's  married.  You've  always  got  the  upper 
hand.  He  can't  face  a  scandal.  So,  when  you 
get  ready  to  break  with  him  when  you  can't 
stand  it  any  longer,  he'll  have  to  pay  and  pay 
big!" 

With  a  violent  effort,  Grace  tore  herself  free 
from  his  arms. 

"No,  no,  I  tell  you!    I  won't  do  it!" 

"You  won't?" 

He  made  a  strong  effort  for  self-control,  as  he 
Sk'w  that  once  more  she  was  swept  by  a  wave 
of  jealous  rage.  Better  let  it  spend  itself  now 
while  they  were  sure  of  not  being  disturbed. 
His  strongest  card;  the  one  that,  unless  all  his 
experience  of  women  was  at  fault,  would  be 
sure  to  move  her,  was  still  unplayed. 

"Why  should  II  Why  should  I!"  she  de- 
manded in  a  tone  hoarse  with  passion.  "It 
would  be  giving  you  to  a  woman  I  hate,  and  tak- 
ing a  man  that  fairly  fills  me  with  loathing! 
Why  should  I  sacrifice  myself  for  you?  You've 


LIFE  131 

shown  how  much  you  care  for  me.  Very  well; 
I'll  show  you  how  much  I  think  of  you.  I  won't 
go  to  him,  I  tell  you.  But  I'll  go  to  her!  I'll 
tell  her  everything.  All  about  you  and  me. 
You  must  have  been  making  love  to  her  for  a 
long  time  to  be  sure  that  she  will  marry 
you.  I'll  tell  her  that  while  you  were  making 
love  to  her,  you  were  living  with  me.  That  when 
you  were  talking  of  love  and  marriage  and  all 
that  I  was  waiting  and  watching  for  your  re- 
turn. That  when  you  left  her  with  her  kisses 
on  your  lips,  it  was  to  hurry  back  to  me.  That 
while  she  was  dreaming  of  your  love,  you 
were  in  my  arms.  I'll  tell  her  all  that, 
and  I'll  tell  her  now,  before  she  leaves  this 
place!" 

She  turned  toward  the  house. 

"Just  one  moment,"  he  said,  laying  a  de- 
taining hand  on  her  arm. 

"You  sha'n't  stop  me."  She  shook  off  his 
hand. 

"I  don't  intend  to  try.  I  only  want  you  to 
realize  just  what  you  are  doing." 

"Oh,  I  know!" 

"No,  you  don't.  Wait,  I'll  only  keep  you  a 
moment." 

They  looked  at  each  other  for  a  moment  in 
silence.  She,  furious  and  defiant;  he,  steadily, 
with  a  little  smile  which  suggested  triumph,  just 
touching  his  lips.  She  was  frankly  puzzled.  He 
saw  that. 

"If  you  do  what  you  say  you  intend  doing," 


132  LIFE 

he  went  on  in  a  low  but  clear  tone,  "yon  will 
send  me  to  prison,  neither  more  nor  less.  That 
is  God's  truth." 

She  gave  an  exclamation  of  terror. 

1  'Prison!  But  you're  joking.  You're  try- 
ing to  frighten  me.  How  would  anything  I  said 
send  you  to  prison?"  And  as  he  kept  silent, 
she  added,  with  a  new  bitterness,  ' '  Since  when 
did  deceiving  a  girl  become  a  penitentiary  of- 
fense?" 

"It  isn't.  But" — he  now  spoke  with  marked 
deliberation,  emphasizing  each  word,  that  by  no 
possibility  could  she  misunderstand  him — "but 
taking  money  from  a  bank  with  which  to  support 
a  girl  one  loves  in  luxury  is.  It  is  called  steal- 
ing. And  that,  you  know,  is  a  penitentiary  of- 
fense. ' ' 

' '  Tom !    Tom !    You  don 't  mean ' ' 

She  gave  a  little  moan,  and  stretched  out  her 
arms  with  a  protecting  gesture.  All  the  pride 
and  anger  were  gone  from  her  face. 

He  followed  up  his  advantage. 

"Ah,  my  darling,  you  never  knew  how  much 
I  cared !  I  loved  you  too  much  to  be  able  to  say 
'no'  to  anything  you  wanted.  Consequently," 
with  a  shrug,  "after  my  recent  losses  in  the 
market,  I  find  that  I  owe  Stuyvesant  and  Com- 
pany the  sum  of  one  hundred  thousand  dollars. 
Bather  more  than  I  can  repay,  if  suddenly 
called  upon  to  do  so!" 

"But  if  you  only  owe  it — that's  not  steal- 


LIFE  133 

A  new  hope  was  bringing  the  color  back  to 
her  white  face. 

"I  say  I  'owe'  it,"  replied  Burnett  with  a 
crooked  smile,  "because  I  intend  to  pay  it  back, 
and  because — to  be  perfectly  honest — I  shy 
at  the  word  that  is  usually  used  to  cover  such 
cases.  But  if  the  'debt'  is  discovered  before  it 
is  paid,  the  law  will  call  it  by  the  harsher  name 
of  defalcation;  and  the  sentence  for  that  will 
be  ten  years  in  Sing  Sing,  at  the  very  least." 

' '  Oh ! "  For  a  moment  she  buried  her  face  in 
her  hands. 

"Now  you  understand  why  I  must  marry 
Miss  Stuyvesant,  and  why  I  ask  this  particular 
sacrifice  of  you." 

' '  Tom !  Tom ! ' '  she  cried  in  an  agony  of  love 
and  self-reproach.  "  Forgive  me.  I  didn't 
know.  I  couldn't.  I  feel  so  guilty  to  think  that 
it  was  I,  I  who  made  you  take  all  that  money. 
Forgive  me,  forgive  me ! ' ' 

She  snatched  his  hand  and  pressed  it  to  her 
lips.  For  a  moment  he  stroked  her  bowed  head 
in  silence. 

"Sh!  Sh!  Someone  might  hear  you.  It's 
all  right,  dearest.  I  regret  nothing.  After  all, 
we  were  very  happy,  and  I'll  pay  it  all  back  if 
only  I  get  the  time.  But  you  see  now  why  I 
need  time." 

"I  see  that,  and  I  see,  too,  that  you  want  me 
to  get  him  in  my  power  so  that  he  may  be  in  the 
same  fix  that  you're  in.  You  intend  to  'get 
something'  on  him." 


134:  LIFE 

"That's  it  exactly.  Then,  even  if  it  is  dis- 
covered, I'm  safe." 

"Gra-cie!  Gra-cie!"  called  Mrs.  Andrews 
from  the  house. 

"Yes,  mother,  I'm  coming." 

"Will  you  do  it?" 

"Yes." 

"You  darling!" 

"I  do  it  for  you,  Tom." 

"I  know." 

"Gra-cie!" 

"Yes,  mother!" 

"Where  are  the  extra  cups?" 

"I'm  coming;  I'll  get  them.  Then  it's  good- 
by  between  you  and  me?" 

"I  don't  see  why — if  we're  careful." 

A  look  of  joyful  surprise  made  her  face 
bloom  once  more.  With  a  smile  and  a  nod  of 
comprehension,  she  ran  quickly  into  the  house. 

With  a  long  sigh  of  relief,  he  threw  away  his 
extinguished  cigar. 

"That  settles  that/'  he  said  to  himself,  as 
Ruth  and  Bill  Reid  appeared  in  the  doorway. 
He  met  them  at  the  foot  of  the  steps. 

"I  want  to  thank  you,  Mr.  Eeid,"  said  Bur- 
nett, holding  out  his  hand  and  speaking  with 
a  great  show  of  heartiness,  "for  what  you  did. 
Ruth's  life  is  very  precious  to  me.  I'm  sure 
you  understand." 

Somehow  Bill  Reid  did  not  seem  to  see  the 
outstretched  hand.  At  least  he  made  no  move 
to  take  it. 


LIFE  135 

"Yes,  I  understand,"  was  all  he  vouchsafed 
in  reply. 

"Do  you  know "  began  Euth,  seeking  to 

break  the  awkward  silence  that  followed  Reid's 
sententious  remark,  when  she  was  interrupted, 
to  her  great  relief,  by  her  father's  joining  them. 

"Mr.  Eeid,  I've  been  waiting  to  catch  you." 
His  voice  was  husky  with  deep  feeling.  '  *  You  've 
put  me  under  an  obligation  to-day  that  I'll  never 
be  able  to  repay." 

This  time  Reid  saw  the  hand  held  out  to  him, 
and  grasped  it  warmly,  blushing  a  fiery  red  as 
he  did  so. 

"Er — er — er,  I  mean  it  wasn't  anything, 
sir." 

"Not  anything  to  save  my  life!"  cried  Ruth 
with  a  great  show  of  indignation.  In  spite  of 
Grace's  amiable  intentions,  she  was  looking  dis- 
tractingly  pretty — which  was  thoughtless  of  her, 
poor  Reid  being  upset  enough  as  it  was.  The 
unhappy  lad  went  blundering  on. 

"I  mean — er — I  mean Why,  I'd  pull  a 

dog  out  of  the  water  any  time!" 

' '  Oh,  thank  you ! ' '  said  Ruth  with  marked  en- 
thusiasm. 

Reid  gave  her  a  despairing  glance. 

*  *  I — er — I — I — say — please !  I  mean  the  only 
way  to  thank  me,  is  not  to  thank  me, ' '  he  said 
with  a  sudden  inspiration. 

"Have  you  ever  thought  of  banking  as  a  pro- 
fession? Stuyvesant  and  Company  can  use  a 
man  of  courage  and  quick  thought  like  you. ! 


>  > 


136  LIFE 

"Well,  sir,  I— I " 

"Father,  dear,"  said  Euth  sweetly,  "he  thinks 
you're  trying  to  pay  him  for  pulling  a  dog  out 
of  the  water." 

*  '  Nonsense ! ' '  laughed  her  father.  ' '  Think  it 
over,"  he  added,  giving  the  big  shoulder  a 
friendly  pat. 

"Yes,  thanks.    I  will." 

Burnett  had  remained  silent  throughout  the 
conversation.  Even  when  Mr.  Stuyvesant  had 
turned  to  him,  as  if  expecting  his  indorsement 
when  he  made  his  offer  to  Reid,  he  had  held  his 
tongue.  Indeed,  to  judge  from  his  expres- 
sion, one  would  have  said  that  he  had  not  heard 
him. 

But  Euth  knew  better.  And  it  was  partly  to 
punish  him  for  what  she  considered  a  dis- 
courtesy both  to  her  father  and  herself  that 
she  turned  to  the  still  embarrassed  young  man 
with  her  most  engaging  smile. 

"Won't  you  show  me  the  walk  along  the 
river,  Mr.  Eeid!" 

"Gladly,"  said  he  eagerly. 

With  a  scowl  which  he  was  at  no  pains  to 
conceal,  Burnett  stalked  into  the  house. 

The  walk  along  the  river  was  not  especially 
picturesque  and  it  could  hardly  have  had  the 
charm  of  novelty  for  either  of  them.  Miss 
Stuyvesant  had  already  taken  it  earlier  in  the 
day,  and  certainly  the  stroke  of  the  crew  must 
have  been  tolerably  familiar  with  it.  But  it  is 
highly  probable  that  had  it  been  paved  with 


LIFE  137 

gold  and  precious  stones,  neither  would  have 
noticed  it.  Under  certain  peculiar  conditions 
there  is  a  form  of  blindness  which  temporarily 
affects  people,  it  is  said.  This  is  particularly 
true  of  the  young  of  the  species. 

After  a  silence  which  seemed  to  Eeid,  vainly 
racking  his  brains  for  something  to  say,  to  have 
lasted  for  a  period  only  to  be  measured  in  cen- 
turies, and  which,  however  blissful  to  him  per- 
sonally, must  stamp  him  in  the  mind  of  his  com- 
panion as  being  a  brainless  idiot,  Euth  said 
softly : 

"You  know  I  didn't  thank  you." 

"Miss  Stuyvesant,  if  you  start  that  again, 
I'll — I'll  leave  you!"  He  spoke  with  an  elo- 
quence surprising  in  a  young  man  who  had  been 
absolutely  tongue-tied  only  a  moment  before. 

"It's  queer,"  said  the  girl  in  the  tone  of 
one  meditating  upon  purely  abstract  subjects, 
"but  I  never  met  a  man  at  all  like  you.  Some- 
how I  feel  so  comfortable,  so  safe,  with  you." 

"That's  funny.  For  I  don't  feel  a  bit  safe 
with  you ! ' ' 

"Why?" 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  innocent  than 
her  tone.  So  overcome  with  astonishment  was 
she  that  she  sank  upon  a  rustic  bench  that,  fortu- 
nately, happened  to  be  by  the  side  of  the  path. 
It  is  barely  conceivable  that  she  had  seen  it 
earlier  in  the  day.  It  would  have  been  very 
awkward  to  have  remained  standing,  so  Bill 
took  the  place  beside  her. 


138  LIFE 

"I  don't  know  why.  But  look;  I'm  as  shaky 
as  if  I  had  just  come  in  from  a  hard  race." 

He  held  a  trembling  hand  in  front  of  her  to 
prove  it. 

"That's  funny.    So  am  I!" 

She  also  produced  the  proof.  And  it  shook 
even  harder  than  his  had  done.  What  a  won- 
derful hand  it  was !  So  white  and  small  beside 
his  great  paw.  Mr.  Reid  was  lost  in  the  wonder 
of  it,  when,  by  a  perfectly  natural  accident  con- 
sidering how  they  both  trembled,  the  small  hand 
and  the  big  one  met. 

"Oh!" 

"Ah!" 

An  electric  shock  could  hardly  have  startled 
them  more. 

"I  beg  your  pardon."  His  tone  was  husky 
with  contrition. 

"Certainly,"  she  said  faintly. 

"That  never  happened  to  me  before." 

"Nor  to  me." 

There  was  a  long  pause. 

"Do  you  know,"  said  Reid  at  length,  with  the 
air  of  one  who  has  made  a  discovery  as  novel  as 
it  is  startling, ' '  I  mean  do  you  suppose  that  peo- 
ple can  sort  of  know  each  other  without  know- 
ing each  other  before?" 

To  this  extremely  complicated  question,  after 
several  moments  devoted  to  considering  it  care- 
fully, she  gave  a  nod  of  assent.  From  the  bluff 
above  and  behind  them  came  the  soft  sound  of 
mandolins,  guitars  and  banjos  and  the  refrain 


LIFE  139 

of  college  songs.  Supper  was  over  and  the  rest 
of  the  party  were  making  the  most  of  the  time 
that  remained  before  they  must  start  back  to 
the  city.  Over  the  tops  of  the  trees  the  moon 
could  just  be  seen.  It  would  beautify  the  whole 
way  home,  Euth  thought.  But  she  felt  strangely 
disinclined  to  think  of  leaving  this  really  charm- 
ing spot  for  any  ride,  however  beautiful. 

"I  wouldn't  have  gone  rowing  with  Tom  Bur- 
nett if  you  hadn't  been  sitting  on  the  porch, 
you  know." 

"You  mean  it?"  His  face  was  alight  with 
eagerness. 

"Yes,"  she  nodded.  "I  just  happened  to 
look  over  there  and  saw  you,  and " 

"I  saw  you,  too."  His  hand  crept  along  the 
bench  toward  hers. 

"You  see,  I  knew  Tom  couldn't  row  much. 
But  I  thought — just  sort  of  felt — a  sort  of 
'he's  there'  feeling." 

He  made  an  abrupt  movement  as  if  he  were 
about  to  take  her  in  his  arms,  but  she  was  too 
preoccupied  to  notice  it. 

"Even  when  the  boat  went  over,"  she  went 
on,  "I  wasn't  really  frightened.  It  just  sort  of 
flashed  on  me:  'Now  he'll  have  to  save  me!' 
And  you  did." 

"Oh,  I  wish  I  had  a  million  dollars !" 

The  utter  irrelevancy  of  the  remark  did  not 
seem  to  strike  her  as  being  at  all  singular. 

"You  will  some  day,"  she  assured  him 
calmly. 


140  LIFE 

"Yes,  but  I  want  it  now." 

"The  remarkable  thing  is  that  you've  accom- 
plished so  much  all  by  yourself.  That's  what 
makes  it  seem  so  wonderful  to  me." 

I  '  But  I  haven 't  done  anything  yet,  you  know. ' ' 
"Oh,  haven't  you?    Why,  the  boys  have  told 

me " 

"What?" 

"Oh,  how  you  started  by  earning  your  way 
through  college,  and  that  now  you're  the  most 
popular  man  at  Yale  and  the  greatest  athlete. ' ' 

"But  I'm  really  just  at  the  beginning,  you 
know,"  he  said  modestly.  "A  man's  hard  life 
doesn't  begin  until  he  leaves  college." 

"If  only  you  would  go  to  work  under  my 
father " 

"But  don't  you  understand?  I  don't  want 
having  you  associated  with  anything  but — 
but " 

"But  what?" 

I 1  Oh,  well ' '    He  threw  out  his  hands  with 

a  gesture  of  embarrassment. 

"Well?" 

"I  just  saw  you  for  the  first  time  to-day," 
he  said  in  a  low  voice. 

"You  forget  that  we've  already  decided 

Oh,  let's  pretend  that  we've  known  each  other 
a  long,  long  time." 

"I  don't  have  to  pretend.  I  feel  as  if  I'd 
known  you  always. ' ' 

"You  certainly  acted  as  though  you  knew  me 
pretty  well,"  said  Ruth  with  a  little  burst  of 


LIFE  141 

laughter  at  the  recollection.  "You  had  your 
arms  around  me,  and  I  was  clinging  to  your 
neck.  Oh,  it  was  shocking!" 

"I  liked  it!"  he  said  with  unmistakable  pofi 
tiveness. 

"Well,  I  must  say  you  didn't  act  as  though 
you  liked  it, ' '  she  replied  with  equal  conviction. 
"When  I  tried  to  get  closer  to  you,  you  put  your 
hand  under  my  chin  and  pushed  me  away.  Do 
you  think  that  was  a  nice  way  to  treat  a  girl?" 

He  laughed  delightedly.  "If  you'd  been  a 
man  I'd  have  punched  you  in  the  jaw!" 

"What!" 

"You  were  trying  to  drown  me." 

"Oh!" 

"But  I  promise  never  to  push  you  away 
again — Euth. ' '  His  voice  was  hardly  more  than 
a  whisper.  But  she  heard  it. 

"You  are  getting  on — Bill." 

He  reached  for  her  hand. 

"Be  careful.  Someone  might  come  along  and 
see  you." 

"I  don't  care.    Let  them!" 

"Well,  I  do.  They— they  wouldn't  under- 
stand." 

"What's  the  difference,  if  you  and  I  under- 
stand? Oh,  I'm  a  fool,  and  I  know  it.  But  T 
don't  care,  I'm  going  to  say  it  anyhow." 

"Say  w-h-a-t?" 

"Say  that  you've  taken  entire  possession  of 
me.  The  moment  I  saw  you — the  instant  that 
we  looked  into  each  other's  eyes,  I  knew  that 


142  LIFE 

you  were  the  one  woman  in  the  whole  world. 
The  girl  born  into  the  world  for  me.  The 
woman  I  was  meant  to  meet.  The  one  I  was 
meant  to  love.  My  mate!" 

"Bill!" 

He  snatched  her  to  his  arms  and  held  her  in 
a  long  embrace. 

"My  darling!    My  own!    MyKuth!" 

"I  thought  you  were  never  going  to  say  it!" 
came  in  a  muffled  voice  from  the  region  of  his 
shoulder. 

After  he  had  released  her,  they  sat,  both  her 
hands  in  his,  and  gazed  at  each  other  in  silence. 
Suddenly  his  face  changed. 

"Are  you  engaged?"  he  demanded. 

"Well,  I  hope  so!"  she  said  indignantly. 

"You  know  what  I  mean.  Are  you — were 
you  engaged  to  that  fellow,  Burnett?" 

1 '  I  are  not  and  I  were  not, ' '  she  reassured  him 
with  a  fine  disregard  for  the  King's  English. 

"Everybody  said  you  were;  that  is,  Miss 
Bruce  told  me  so." 

"Of  course  she  may  know  more  about  it  than 
I  do,"  she  teased.  And,  then,  seeing  that  he 
was  sincerely  troubled,  she  became  serious. 

"Listen,  dear,  big  man!  I  have  never  been 
engaged  to  anybody.  Yes,  I  know  that  everyone 
supposes  I  am  as  good  as  engaged  to  Tom  Bur- 
nett. Perhaps,  if  you  and  I  had  not  met  I 
might  have  been  in  time.  My  father,  who  ad- 
mires and  trusts  him  more  than  any  young  man 
\Q  knows — far  more,  and  with  reason,  I  am 


LIFE  143 

sorry  to  say,  than  he  trusts  my  brother,  Ralph 
— has  told  me  that  there  was  no  one  to  whom 
he  would  trust  me  so  willingly.  And  so,  al- 
though I  knew  that  our  friends  were  taking  it 
for  granted  that  it  would  all  come  about  in  time, 
and  although  Tom  himself  vexed  me  more  than 
once  by  assuming  a  more  intimate  tone  with  me 
before  people  than  the  circumstances  justified, 
to  please  my  father  I  just  let  things  drift." 

"Why  not?  There  was  no  one  else.  I  some- 
times wondered  if  it  were  not  all  merely  the 
dream  of  a  young  girl,  that  dear  dream  of  the 
right  man  coming  at  last!  The  one  man,  as 
you  say,  born  to  be  my  man.  And  while  Tom 
and  I  have  always  had  a  sort  of  brother-and- 
sister  affection  for  each  other,  he,  too,  took 
things  for  granted — until  to-day. 

"But  to-day  he  did  propose.  Yes,  since  we 
came  here.  At  least  it  was  practically  a  pro- 
posal. It  was  right  after  I  had  bought  you  at 
the  auction.  He  was  very  angry  about  it.  And 
I  told  him  then  that  I  did  not  love  him  as  I  had 
always  believed  a  woman  should  love  the  man 
she  was  going  to  give  herself  to  for  better,  for 
worse.  That  liking  him  as  much  as  I  do,  he  had 
never  for  a  moment  given  me  that  thrill  which 
I  felt  one  must  always  have  when  one  was  in 
love.  He  laughed,  of  course ;  most  men  would. 
He  told  me  that  it  was  a  silly,  romantic  dream, 
or  something  of  the  sort,  that  people  only  felt 
when  they  were  very,  very  young.  Something 
or  somebody  interrupted  us  then,  I  don't  quite 


144  LIFE 

remember  what.  And  he  asked  me  to  give  him 
"'his  chance.'  I  suppose  he  meant  to  try  to  per- 
suade me  to  say  'yes.'  And  so  we  went  out  on 
the  river.  The  rest,  I  need  not  tell  you." 

"And  if  the  boat  had  not  upset  when  it  did, 
would  you — would  you?"  he  demanded. 

"How  dreadful  of  you!  Don't  you  intend  to 
leave  me  even  a  remnjnt  of  pride  or  self- 
respect!"  she  laughed. 

But  at  the  look  of  pain  in  his  eyes,  she  re- 
lented, glorying,  as  women  do,  in  her  complete 
surrender. 

"No,  I  wouldn't  have.  For,  for  the  second 
time  our  eyes  had  met — you  remember,  while 
you  were  up  on  the  porch,  just  as  I  was  about 
to  go  down  to  the  landing  with  Tom — and  I  had 
felt  the  thrill  that  I  told  him  he  never  gave  me. 
And  I  said:  *I  will  wait  a  little  longer.  I 
will  not  say  'yes'  to  him  yet  awhile. 

"And  then — I  wonder  if  he  remembers  it — 
just  as  we  were  ready  to  start,  I  reminded  him 
that  neither  of  us  knew  how  to  swim  and " 

"I  never  heard  of  anything  so  mad  as  a  man 
taking  such  a  risk!  It's  one  thing  to  imperil 
his  own  neck  if  he  wants  to,  but  it's  quite  an- 
other to  ask  anyone  else  to  take  the  same 
chance." 

"I  suppose  you  would  have  felt  just  the  same 
about  it  if  he  had  taken  Alice,  say." 

"Euth!"  Once  more  she  was  clasped  in  his 
strong  arms. 

"No,  no!     Really  you  mustn't — just  now. 


LIFE  145 

Besides,  you  are  interrupting  me.  As  I  was 
saying,  we  were  joking  about  not  knowing  how 
to  swim,  and  he  said  if  he  upset  me  he  would 
rescue  me  and  then  I  would  have  to  marry  him. 
And  I  said  I  would  promise  to  marry  the  man 
who  rescued  me." 

"Ruth!    Suppose " 

"But  he  couldn't  have.  And  haven't  I  told 
you  that  I  knew  it  would  be  you?" 

This  time  she  made  no  remonstrance. 

"Time  to  go  home.  Girls  and  boys,  time  to 
go  h-o-m-e,"  called  Mr.  Stuyvesant. 


CHAPTER  X 

IF  there  was  one  way  more  than  another  by 
which  Ealph  Stuyvesant  showed  himself  to  be 
the  spoiled  child,  it  was  in  his  impatience,  not 
only  of  all  restraint  and  opposition,  but  of  any 
delay  in  getting  anything  upon  which  he  had 
set  his  heart.  It  may  have  been  that,  conscious 
of  his  own  fickle  and  vacillating  nature,  he 
feared  to  tire  of  the  desired  object  even  before 
it  was  his.  Euth  had  once  said  that  she  was 
sure  that  her  brother  was  the  original  of  the 
man  who  wanted  what  he  wanted,  when  he 
wanted  it.  Like  many  witticisms,  its  sting  lay 
in  its  truth.  And  Ealph  had  never  quite  for- 
given it. 

It  can  be  imagined,  therefore,  that  he  knew 
no  peace  of  mind  until  the  object  of  his 
latest  fancy  was  established  in  New  York.  As 
Grace,  having  once  come  to  her  decision,  was 
equally  impatient  to  return  to  a  life  which 
her  sojourn  in  the  country  had  made  more  than 
ever  alluring  by  contrast,  he  met  with  fewer 
obstacles  to  his  impatience  than  he  had  dared 
to  hope. 

Even  then,  things  were  not  arranged  without 
the  exchange  of  numerous  letters  and  telegrams. 
Ealph  had  seized  the  occasion  to  make  two 
clandestine  visits  to  New  Haven.  But  he  had 

146 


LIFE  147 

little  more  than  his  journey  for  his  pains.  His 
divinity  had  set  her  foot  down  on  his  coming 
near  her  father's  house;  although  he  had  as- 
sured her  that  he  had  been  able  to  invent  most 
plausible  excuses,  connected  with  a  sudden  in- 
terest in  the  crew  and  the  coming  race,  for 
doing  so. 

The  best  terms  he  could  make  with  the  cruel 
fair  one  were  that  she  should  grant  him  the 
briefest  of  audiences  in  the  postoffice,  of  all 
places.  It  is  hardly  to  be  wondered  at  that  his 
return  to  town  after  each  of  these  exasperat- 
ingly  unsatisfactory  rendezvous  was  marked  by 
symptoms  of  unusual  ill  humor. 

But  Grace  knew,  as  well  as  any  woman  that 
ever  lived,  how  to  promise  with  a  look.  And 
Ralph,  who  prided  himself  upon  being  a  fin- 
ished man  of  the  world,  found  constant  cause 
for  wonderment  in  the  fact  that  this  inexperi- 
enced country  girl,  as  in  his  simplicity  he  be- 
lieved her  to  be,  could  continue  to  keep  him  at 
arm's  length.  As  a  consequence,  never  in  his 
life  had  his  interest  been  so  intrigued. 

As  for  Grace  herself,  never  had  she  been  in  so 
complex  a  mood.  Her  desire  to  come  back  to  the 
city  was  made  up  of  many  elements.  Almost 
from  the  first,  she  had  spells  of  being  restless, 
lonely  and  bored.  Still,  being  naturally  in- 
dolent, she  would  probably  have  lingered  on 
indefinitely  basking  in  the  warmth  of  her  par- 
ents' affection,  until  such  time  as  Burnett's 
affairs  should  justify  their  resuming  their  old 


148  LIFE 

way  of  life,  had  it  not  been  for  his  unexpected 
advent  and  the  news  of  his  projected  marriage 
with  the  heiress  of  the  Stuyvesant  millions. 

Never  had  his  knowledge  of  women,  and  of 
this  one  woman  in  particular,  stood  him  in  bet- 
ter stead.  He  had  unerringly  struck  the  only 
chord  to  which  she  would  have  responded.  The 
role  of  the  woman  heroically  sacrificing  her 
body  and  crucifying  her  affections  to  save  her 
lover  from  the  consequences  of  her  own  uncon- 
scious selfishness  was  one  that  appealed  irre- 
sistibly to  her  sentimental  and  theatric  nature. 

If  she  had  been  capable  of  weighing  things 
calmly,  she  would  have  realized  that  Burnett 
alone  was  to  blame  for  the  impasse  in  which  he 
found  himself.  While  occasionally  quarreling 
with  her  over  her  extravagance,  he  had  never 
once  been  frank  with  her  concerning  his  re- 
sources and  income,  and  she  had  naturally 
charged  his  infrequent  complaints  to  that  streak 
of  meanness  which  Mrs.  Watson  assured  her 
ran  through  the  most  generous  of  men. 

But  even  in  the  height  of  her  emotional  en- 
joyment of  her  contemplated  sacrifice,  the  fires 
of  her  suspicious  jealousy  which  had  been,  so 
to  speak,  banked,  not  extinguished,  would  occa- 
sionally flame  into  life.  At  such  times  it  seemed 
impossible  to  wait  even  those  few  days  necessi- 
tated by  Ralph's  search  for  a  suitable  apart- 
ment and  for  the  perfecting  of  the  details  of 
her  plans  to  once  more  leave  home  without 
exciting  the  suspicion  of  her  father  and  mother. 


LIFE  149 

Acting  on  her  instructions,  Ralph  had  writ- 
ten her  a  letter  from  an  imaginary  agency 
offering  her  a  position  at  a  salary  which,  in 
the  eyes  of  her  prudent  parents,  it  would  have 
been  flying  in  the  face  of  Providence  to  reject. 
And  so,  followed  by  the  tearful  lamentations  of 
her  mother  and  the  disgusted  regrets  of  her 
father  that  her  new  employer's  impatience 
would  not  permit  of  her  staying  a  few  days 
longer  to  witness  Yale's  coming  triumph,  she 
returned  to  New  York. 

Actuated  by  the  sentimental  recollection  of 
her  first  arrival  when  she  had  been  greeted  by 
Burnett,  she  had  stubbornly  refused  to  allow 
Ealph  to  meet  her  at  the  station.  Indeed,  she 
had  had  to  fight  an  impish  impulse  to  telegraph 
to  Tom  again.  On  the  whole  it  seemed  hardly 
worth  the  risk,  nor,  on  consideration,  did  it  ap- 
peal to  her  dramatic  instinct  as  being  consistent 
with  the  part  she  was  about  to  play.  So  she  had 
driven  alone  to  the  Waldorf  where  Ealph  was 
to  meet  her  for  dinner  and  where  her  room  was 
already  engaged. 

She  had  sent  word  to  the  hotel  where  she  had 
lived  so  long  to  forward  two  of  the  trunks 
which  they  were  storing  for  her  to  her  new 
address.  Consequently,  when  Ealph  arrived 
some  hours  later,  he  was  divided  between 
amazement  and  delight  on  beholding  the  appari- 
tion that  floated  toward  him  along  Peacock 
Alley.  The  same  thought  came  to  him  that  had 
come  to  Burnett  long  ago  when  they  had  had 


150  LIFE 

their  first  dinner  together.  "There  wasn't  a 
woman  who  could  touch  her!" 

At  once  the  plan  that  he  had  formed  for  tak- 
ing his  countrified  beauty  to  some  obscure  res- 
taurant vanished  into  thin  mist.  They  would 
dine  right  there  where  they  were.  There  were 
sure  to  be  lots  of  people  he  knew  and  he  was 
glad  of  it.  It  would  be  no  end  of  fun  to  rouse 
the  general  curiosity.  After  to-night,  he  would 
take  precious  good  care  that  she  was  not  seen 
too  much  in  public  places.  And  if,  as  fre- 
quently happened,  some  gabby  should  run  to  his 
wife  with  the  tale  of  his  having  been  seen  din- 
ing with  an  unusually  beautiful  woman,  he 
could  say  that  "Mrs.  Andrews" — for  so  Grace 
was  registered — was  the  wife  of  an  old  college 
friend  from  Chicago  whom  he  had  run  into  by 
chance. 

Ralph  did  not  shine  as  a  conversationalist  in 
the  most  favorable  circumstances,  and  to-night 
he  was  not  even  up  to  his  own  average.  But 
Grace  hardly  noticed  it.  Once  more  the  old 
intoxication  of  covert  glances  of  admiration 
from  the  men  about  her  and  the  open  stares  of 
their  women  companions  warmed  her  heart  and 
mounted  to  her  brain.  She  did  not  need  the 
further  stimulus  of  a  witty  companion.  For 
the  moment  she  forgot  that  Ralph  had  always 
seemed  to  her  little  more  than  a  brainless  fool 
and  that  there  was  something  about  him  phys- 
ically that  she  found  almost  repellent. 

Her  brilliant  eyes,  her  dazzling  smile,  the 


LIFE  151 

occasional  touch  of  her  slim,  while  fingers,  fired 
his  blood  like  wine.  This  incomparable  crea- 
ture was  soon  to  be  his.  The  food  lay  almost 
untasted  before  him.  From  time  to  time  he 
gulped  down  his  glass  of  champagne  which  the 
attentive  waiter  as  regularly  refilled,  until 
checked  by  a  look  of  command  from  Grace's 
eyes. 

" Listen,  dearest,"  she  whispered,  "you 
really  mustn't  drink  any  more  just  now.  I 
have  some  things  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about, 
and  I  am  going  to  send  you  away  right  after 
dinner  as  I  am  tired  and  a  little  headachy." 

"You  don't  look  it.  And  see  here!  Do  you 
mean  to  say  you're  not  coming  round  with  me 
to  see  the  apartment  I've  fixed  up?  The  car, 
your  car 's  coming  at  ten. ' ' 

"My  car!"  She  could  hardly  believe  her 
ears.  "You  don't  mean  to  say  that  I  am  to 
have  a  car  of  my  very  own  ? ' ' 

"What  do  you  think  I  am!  I'm  no  piker!" 
said  Ralph  boastfully. 

"Of  course  not,  my  dear."  She  gave  his 
hand  a  little  pat.  She  repented  already  having 
been  betrayed  into  such  enthusiasm.  But,  for 
the  moment,  the  idea  of  his  giving  her  a  car  at 
the  very  beginning  of  their  friendship  had 
thrown  her  a  little  off  her  balance.  He  must 
have  money  to  throw  about,  with  an  establish- 
ment of  his  own  to  maintain. 

"Let's  wait  until  to-morrow.  I'd  so  much 
rather  see  it  with  you  for  the  first  time  by  day- 


152  LIFE 

light.  And  then,  really,  I'm  quite  tired,  what 
with  packing  and  unpacking  and  the  dozen  little 
things  a  woman  always  has  to  do  when  she  par- 
ticularly wants  to  make  herself  look  present- 
able. You're  not  ashamed  of  me,  are  you? 
I've  not  disgraced  you?  I  wanted  to  look  as 
pretty  as  I  could  for  our  first  dinner  together." 

"Ashamed  of  you!  Well,  I  should  say  not. 
Gad!  You're  a  queen,  all  right,  all  right,  when 
you're  dolled  up.  Where  did  you  get  the  glad 
rags,  anyhow?"  he  asked  with  just  a  suggestion 
of  ugly  suspicion. 

For  a  moment  she  struggled  against  an  im- 
pulse to  tell  him  to  his  mean,  little  face  never 
to  dare  to  try  to  see  her  again ;  that  his  cars  and 
his  apartments  and  his  money  could  never  pay 
a.  woman  for  having  to  endure  his  hateful  so- 
ciety. What  had  she  to  fear  after  all,  with  her 
looks?  New  York  was  filled  with  men  who 
would  ask  nothing  better  than  to  pay  the  ex- 
penses of  a  woman  as  beautiful  as  she  was.  She 
could  safely  count  on  staying  at  the  hotel  for  a 
week,  what  with  her  three  trunks,  her  costumes 
and  her  general  air  of  prosperity.  And  if  by 
the  end  of  a  week .  And  then  she  remem- 
bered Tom  and  her  own  heroic  role. 

"So  you  like  my  dress,"  she  laughed.  "I'll 
tell  you  a  little  secret  about  it.  I  happened  to 
meet  a  woman  from  New  York  not  long  ago 
who  took  quite  a  fancy  to  me.  She  knew  all 
sorts  of  useful  things.  Among  others,  she  knew 
of  a  place  where  one  could  buy  second-hand 


LIFE  153 

dresses  almost  as  good  as  new.  I  went  there 
this  afternoon  directly  from  the  station.  That's 
why  I  wouldn't  let  you  meet  me.  I  didn't  want 
you  to  see  me  until  I  had  some  decent  clothes. 
I've  been  sewing  hard  ever  since.  That's  why 
I 'ma  little  tired." 

"Well,  you're  a  wonder!  All  right,  I'll  let 
you  off  till  to-morrow.  But  you  can  spend  the 
next  few  days  while  I'm  down  at  the  bank  in 
getting  yourself  fitted  up  with  new  things.  My 
girl  isn't  going  to  wear  anybody's  cast-off 
finery.  It's  all  very  well  for  once.  But  you 
can  give  that  to  the  French  maid  I've  engaged 
for  you." 

Shortly  after  dinner  she  persuaded  him  to 
leave  her.  Having  written  a  note  to  Burnett, 
and  one  to  the  only  address  she  knew  that  might 
find  Mrs.  Watson,  she  found  that  her  imaginary 
headache  had  become  a  real  one.  After  all, 
she  was  tired.  She  went  early  to  bed. 

It  was  the  evening  before  the  great  race. 
Grace  already  felt  as  if  she  had  spent  a  lifetime 
in  her  present  quarters.  While  a  furnished 
apartment  has  certain  undeniable  advantages, 
living  in  it  is  quite  like  wearing  other  people's 
clothes.  She  recalled  what  fun  it  had  been, 
under  Mrs.  Watson's  guidance,  picking  out  the 
things  for  the  modest  little  place  where  she  and 
Burnett  had  first  set  up  housekeeping.  Still, 
if  the  truth  were  known,  this  was  secretly  more 
to  her  taste,  which,  as  has  been  intimated,  ran 
rather  to  the  showy.  It  was  more  than  twice 


154  LIFE 

as  large,  for  one  thing,  and  was  more  near  the 
center  of  things.  In  place  of  being  near  lower 
Fifth  Avenue,  which  was  like  a  country  road 
at  night  as  far  as  life  went,  she  was  now  close 
to  her  beloved  Broadway,  well  up  in  the  Forties. 
And  here  she  had  a  cook  and  a  personal  maid 
as  well.  If  only  she  had  not  had  to  see  so  much 
of  her  proprietor,  she  would  have  been  fairly 
contented. 

Ealph  had  furnished  it  regardless  of  expense. 
No  one  who  had  seen  his  home  could  ever  have 
dreamed  that  he  had  had  a  hand  in  the  selection 
of  the  things  that  crowded  the  apartment. 
Whether  in  choosing  them  he  had  been  influenced 
by  some  long-forgotten  barbaric  strain  in  his 
blood,  or  whether  he  had  merely  given  rein  to 
a  mordant  humor  which  prompted  him  to  em- 
phasize the  difference  in  what  he  considered 
suitable  for  his  wife  and  for  his  mistress,  it 
would  be  impossible  to  say.  Burnett  himself 
inclined  to  the  latter  theory. 

On  this  particular  evening  Grace,  no  longer 
Mrs.  Andrews,  but  Miss  Barrisford,  was  in  an 
exceedingly  bad  temper.  In  the  first  place, 
Burnett  had  not  even  telephoned  her  for  sev- 
eral days,  which  treatment  aroused  all  her  dor- 
mant suspicions  of  his  good  faith.  And  if  that 
were  not  enough,  Ralph  had,  for  the  last  three 
nights,  absolutely  refused  to  take  her  out  to 
dinner,  on  the  ground  that  he  wanted  her  all  to 
himself.  After  so  large  a  dose  of  his  unrelieved 
society,  she  felt  that  she  had  never  really 


LIFE  155 

known  what  boredom  meant  before.  She  had 
seen  him  for  a  moment  in  the  afternoon  and 
had  given  him  to  understand  that  unless  he 
promised  to  take  her  somewhere  for  supper,  he 
need  not  expect  to  enjoy  her  society  at  dinner. 
She  had  just  finished  dressing. 

The  sight  of  her  reflection  in  the  long  mirror 
in  her  dressing-room  went  far  toward  restor- 
ing her  to  a  happier  frame  of  mind.  She  cer- 
tainly was  a  most  sumptuous  figure  in  a  won- 
derful new  gown  of  white  and  silver  which  had 
just  been  brought  home  from  her  dressmaker's. 

"At  what  time  will  Madame  be  pleased  to 
dine?"  asked  the  maid,  as  she  came  into  the 
drawing-room. 

"At  eight,  Marie." 

"Thank  you,  Madame." 

"And,  Marie,"  she  called  as  the  girl  was 
going  out  the  door,  "telephone  and  have  the 
car  come  about  eleven.  We  will  be  going  out." 

"Yes,  Madame.    Thank  you,  Madame." 

"Oh,  Lord!"  said  Grace  with  a  yawn,  "I  al- 
most wish  I  was  back  watching  the  moonlight 
on  the  river." 

Taking  a  cigarette  from  a  gold  case  which 
lay  on  the  table,  she  lighted  it  and  threw  her- 
self pettishly  on  a  huge  white  and  gold  divan 
which  filled  up  one  side  of  the  room. 

"Day  dreams?"  said  a  mocking  voice  from 
the  doorway.  "They  should  be  golden  ones!" 

It  was  Burnett.  As  he  was  dressed  for  din- 
ner, she  had  a  sudden  hope  that  perhaps  Ralph 


156  LIFE 

had  found  it  impossible  to  escape  some  dinner 
at  home  and  had  sent  his  friend  as  his  substi- 
tute. But  she  did  not  mean  to  show  her  pleas- 
nre  until  she  heard  his  explanation  for  his 
neglect. 

"Oh,  it's  you,  is  it?"  she  said  carelessly. 

"You  don't  seem  just  overjoyed  to  see  me." 

"No?  Why  should  I  be?  You  haven't  been 
near  me  for  three  days." 

"After  all,  this  is  Ealph's  flat." 

"Is  that  any  reason  why  you  shouldn't  come, 
you  his  best  friend." 

'  *  There  are  some  things  that  men  don 't  share 
even  with  their  best  friends — if  they  know  it." 

"I  hate  him!"  she  said  viciously. 

"Good!  You  see  already  it's  as  though  you 
were  married  to  him." 

"Is  it!"  In  sudden  anger,  she  sprang  to  her 
feet.  "And  how  are  you  keeping  your  word? 
You  promised,  if  I'd  do  as  you  wanted,  that  it 
wouldn't  interfere  with  our  being  the  same  to 
each  other  as  we  used  to  be." 

"Well,  we  are,  aren't  we — when  we  get  the 
chance. ' ' 

With  a  swift  movement  she  threw  her  arms 
about  him  and  drew  his  face  down  to  hers. 

"Care — ful!"  he  cautioned  her,  his  eyes  on 
the  door. 

She  snatched  her  arms  away  and  shoved  him 
from  her  so  violently  that  Burnett  would  have 
lost  his  balance  if  he  had  not  saved  himself  by 
catching  at  the  table. 


LIFE  157 

"It  is  you  who  should  be  careful,"  she 
stormed.  "I  see  now  that  you've  made  a  fool 
of  me.  You  don't  care  for  me  any  longer.  It's 
her  you  love.  But  I " 

Something  of  her  own  passion  blazed  in  his 
face  on  the  instant. 

' '  Come  here ! "  He  caught  her  roughly  by  the 
shoulder  and  half  dragged  her  back  to  him. 
For  a  moment  he  held  her  head  in  his  two  hands, 
scowling  into  her  defiant,  angry  eyes.  Then, 
feeling  his  kisses  on  her  hair,  her  mouth,  her 
throat,  she  closed  her  eyes  and  lay  limply  in  his 
arms. 

* ' I  love  you,  and  only  you !  You  understand? 
Don't  ever  dare  let  me  hear  you  say  that  I 
don't  You  know  it,  don't  you?  Say  so!  Say 
you  know  it,  do  you  hear?  "  He  shook  her  so 
roughly  that  her  hair  fell  about  her  happy 
face. 

She  broke  away  from  him,  and  laughing  in 
triumph,  ran  over  to  the  mirror. 

"Heavens,  what  a  man  you  are.  Yes,  yes,  I 
know  it!" 

She  smiled  coquettishly  at  him  as  she  twisted 
up  a  strand  of  her  hair  and  deftly  fastened  it 
with  a  jeweled  pin. 

"How  I  look!  And" — glancing  at  the  clock 
— "I  was  particularly  anxious  to  look  my  best 
to-night  as  Ralph  is  really  going  to  take  me 
out  to  supper." 

She  made  a  mocking  face  at  him  and  threw, 
herself  once  more  on  the  divan. 


158  LIFE 

"Oh,  do  you  know,  you've  never  told  me  what 
you  thought  of  my  new  name." 

"Fine!  Muriel  Barrisford  would  certainly 
throw  anyone  off  the  scent  who  was  look- 
ing for  Grace  Andrews.  Where  did  you  get 
it?" 

"Oh,  out  of  a  book  I  read  this  summer." 

"I  could  almost  guess  who  wrote  it,"  he 
smiled. 

1 *  Could  you  1 ' '  she  said,  tapping  her  lips  with 
her  long  fingers  to  hide  a  little  yawn.  "It's 
more  than  I  could.  I  never  know  what  the 
creatures  call  themselves." 

He  turned  to  the  window  to  hide  a  grin. 

"Well.    How's  everything  going!" 

"The  furnishings  cost  ten  thousand  dollars." 

"Too  cheap." 

"Then  there's  the  car:  eight  thousand." 

"Y-e-s,"  he  said  with  a  nod,  turning  back 
from  the  window,  "ten  and  eight  are  eighteen. 
Store  accounts?" 

"Of  course." 

"Go  only  to  the  best.  And  the  ones  that  will 
give  you  a  rebate  in  cash. ' ' 

"Trust  me!" 

"And  allowance?" 

"We  haven't  discussed  that  yet." 

"Twenty  thousand  a  month — and  send  him 
all  the  bills." 

"Oh,  you  generous  darling!" 

"Yes.  I'm  not  giving  it  to  you,  you  know. 
Jewels?" 


LIFE  159 

11  These."  Holding  out  her  hand  on  which 
were  several  rings. 

"Pugh!  That  can't  be  fifteen  thousand 
worth.  You  must  have  a  rope  of  pearls. ' ' 

"I  shall  certainly  come  over  and  kiss 
you!" 

"Stay  where  you  are.  He'll  be  here  any 
minute,"  he  warned  her.  "Let  me  tell  you, 
my  friend,  you  play  with  me  and  I'll  get  him. 
I'll  get  him  where  I  want  him,  get  him  where 
he  can't  get  away!"  He  strode  up  and  down 
the  room,  shaking  his  clenched  fist. 

Grace's  eyes  narrowed  again  with  the  old 
suspicion. 

"And  what  do  I  get  I"  she  said,  going  over 
and  helping  herself  to  another  cigarette. 

"You!  You  get  the  pearls,  the  apartment, 
the  limousine,  the " 

"Damn  the  pearls,  damn  the  limousine,  damn 
the  apartment,"  chanted  Grace.  "You're  what 
I  want!" 

His  back  was  turned  toward  her.  "Lord! 
again!"  he  said  under  his  breath.  "Well, 
you'll  have  me  too,  won't  you,  beautiful  one? 
You  know— There's  the  bell !" 

She  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  as  Ealph  came  in 
beaming  with  happiness,  she  threw  herself  in 
his  arms,  kissing  him  ecstatically. 

"Oh,  darling,  it's  you  at  last.  How  late  you 
are!  You  mustn't  mind  us,  Mr.  Burnett," 
making  a  face  over  her  shoulder,  "but  I  haven't 
seen  my  darling  since  this  afternoon. ' ' 


160  LIFE 

"Oh,  I  can  stand  it.  Besides,  I'm  looking 
out  of  the  window." 

Ealph  gave  a  happy  laugh. 

"Hello,  Tom.    How  are  you,  old  man?" 

"Needn't  ask  how  you  are.  You  look  too 
confoundedly  happy." 

"Haven't  I  every  right  to  be?  Look!  Isn't 
she  beautiful?"  He  stood  off  looking  at  Grace 
with  adoring  eyes. 

"She  certainly  is.  How's  your  wife!"  he 
asked  with  a  change  of  tone. 

1 1  Very  well, ' '  said  Ealph  sharply.  ' '  She  and 
Euth  and  the  lot  of  them  went  on  up  to-night 
so  as  to  be  in  time  for  the  races  to-morrow." 

"Oh,  couldn't  we  just  motor  up?  I'd  love 
to." 

"I  shouldn't  advise  it,"  said  Burnett,  fear- 
ing that  Ealph  wouldn't  have  the  strength  to 
refuse.  "If  your  people  saw  you,  or  Ealph 's 
people  saw  him,  then  where  would  you  be!" 

"I  suppose  you'll  be  there  to  watch  Bill  Eeid 
stroke  Yale  for  victory, "  said  Ealph  maliciously. 

"Oh,  I'll  be  there." 

"Do  you  know,"  said  Ealph,  looking  delight- 
edly round  the  room,  "that  this  place  is  begin- 
ning to  feel  like  my  real  home. ' ' 

"You  darling!"  Grace  blew  him  a  kiss. 

"In  all  well  regulated  families,"  laughed 
Burnett,  "that's  the  cue  for  the  wife  to  ask  for 
something. ' ' 

"Well,  I'm  not  going  to,"  said  Grace  with  a 
pout.  "All  the  same,  when  I  was  downtown 


LIFE  161 

to-day,  I  just  happened  to  stop  in  Tiffany's,  and 
I  did  see " 

"What?"  asked  Ralph,  pulling  her  down  on 
the  divan  beside  him. 

"No!" — with  a  shake  of  her  pretty  head — 
"I'm  not  going  to  talk  about  it.  You've  given 
me  too  much  already." 

"Nonsense!" 

"No,  no.    I  won't!" 

"Not  when  you  know  I  want  you  to?" 

* '  It  was  so  beautiful !  But,  no ! "  with  a  little 
sigh  of  regret,  "It  wouldn't  be  right." 

"But  I  insist,  sweetheart." 

But  Grace  was  not  to  be  moved.  She  got  up 
and  went  slowly  over  to  the  table  and  began  to 
rearrange  the  roses  in  a  silver  bowl.  Burnett 
watched  her  with  very  genuine  admiration. 
What  a  comedian  she  was  I 

"Grace,  I  command  you!"  said  Ealph  with 
mock-heroics. 

She  swept  him  a  curtsy. 

"Alas !  If  my  lord  commands — It  was  a  rope 
of  pearls." 

"A — rope — of — pearls."  Ralph's  face  was 
funny  in  its  blank  dismay. 

"Oh,  it's  ridiculous!  She's  only  joking," 
interposed  Burnett. 

"He  made  me  say  it,"  pouted  Grace. 

"Well,  if "  began  Ralph. 

"Don't  be  a  fool!"  said  Burnett  roughly. 
"You're  not  made  of  money.  A  rope  of  pearls 
would  cost — well,  Heaven  knows  what!" 


162  LIFE 

She  ran  lightly  across  the  room  and  taking 
Ealph's  flushed  face  in  her  hands,  kissed  him 
lightly  on  the  forehead  and  turned  indignantly 
to  Burnett. 

"I  haven't  said  I  wanted  it.  Of  course  I 
don't.  I  wouldn't  embarrass  my  boy  financially 
for — for  the  whole  ocean  of  pearls.  He  knows 
that." 

Ealph  needed  no  further  spur. 

"I  have  given  my  word,"  he  said  pompously. 
" She  shall  have  them." 

Burnett  felt  his  face  grow  purple  in  his  ef- 
forts to  strangle  a  laugh.  But  with  a  warning 
glance  in  his  direction,  Grace  saved  the  day  by 
throwing  herself  into  Ralph's  arms  and  burst- 
ing into  a  perfect  flood  of  tears.  Among  her 
other  useful  accomplishments  was  the  ability 
to  weep  at  will  without  in  the  least  disfiguring 
herself. 

"Oh — my — dearest — you — are — too — good  — 
to — me ! ' '  she  sobbed. 

And  she  capped  her  performance  by  wink- 
ing at  Burnett  behind  the  morsel  of  lace 
with  which  she  at  length  dried  her  streaming 
eyes. 

"Look  at  me!  I  must  be  a  sight.  And  I 
just  know  our  dinner's  ruined.  I  forgot  all 
about  it.  Look  at  the  time. " 

"Well,  let's  go  out  then.  Did  she  need  cheer- 
ing up,  after  nearly  crying  her  pretty  eyes 
out!" 

"I  think  I  would  like  to.    But  I  must  go  and 


LIFE  163 

bathe  my  eyes  and  powder  my  nose.  It's  prob- 
ably purple!" 

"You  can't  be  serious,  Ralph,"  remonstrated 
Tom  after  she  had  left  the  room. 

"But  I  am,  Tom.    I  tell  you,  I  adore  her." 

"In  the  first  place,  you  haven't  the  money, 
as  you  very  well  know." 

"I'll  pay  twenty-five  thousand  down,  and 
charge  the  rest." 

"But  have  you  twenty-five  thousand  on  de- 
posit? Your  account  doesn't  generally  get  that 
big." 

"N — o — o,  I  haven't,"  said  Ralph  with  a  rue- 
ful laugh.  "But  if  I  should  overdraw  five  or 
six  thousand — you  could  0.  K.  the  check.  You 
would,  wouldn't  you,  just  this  once?" 

"And  not  let  your  father  know.  All  right,  I 
will.  This  once.  But  don't  do  it  too  often. 
Well,  now  I  must  be  off,"  he  said,  looking  at  hir, 
watch. 

'  *  Oh,  stay  and  have  a  bite  with  Grace  and  me ; 
or  at  least  wait  till  she  comes  back." 

"Can't,  thanks.  I'm  late  already.  I've  an 
engagement  uptown.  I'll  leave  you  to  make 
my  adieus.  She'll  be  so  happy  about  the  pearls, 
she  won't  know  whether  I've  made  them,  or 
not. — She's  a  wonder!"  he  said  to  himself,  as 
he  went  down  in  the  elevator. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THEEE  is  probably  no  time  in  life  when 
one  feels  lonelier  than  in  the  first  few 
weeks  following  graduation.  If,  as  we  grow 
older,  solitude,  for  one  reason  or  another, 
becomes  our  portion,  we  have  either  grown  ac- 
customed to  it,  or  have  learned  to  bear  it  with 
philosophy.  But  the  average  youth  is  essen- 
tially a  gregarious  animal  with  a  pronounced 
distaste  for  his  own  unrelieved  society.  After 
four  years  of  constant  and  close  companion- 
ship with  his  kind,  he  is  chilled  by  the  cool 
aloofness  of  the  world  in  general.  Too  proudly 
shy  to  make  advances  himself,  he  is  not  unlike 
a  lost  dog  in  a  crowded  street,  running  hither 
and  yon  in  search  of  his  master,  both  dreading 
and  longing  for  the  friendly  touch  of  even  an 
alien  hand. 

And  to  Bill  Eeid,  the  popular  idol  of  his  little 
world,  this  loneliness  came  with  more  than  the 
usual  force.  Never  had  a  summer  been  so  end- 
less as  the  one  that  followed  his  entrance  into 
the  house  of  Stuyvesant  and  Company.  Had 
anyone  told  him  that,  without  his  knowledge, 
the  whole  system  of  reckoning  time  had  been 
altered,  and  that  the  months  now  each  con- 
tained an  hundred  days,  he  would  not  have  been 

164 


LIFE  165 

greatly  astonished.  Certainly  all  the  summers 
of  his  life  had  flown  by  comparison. 

There  were  several  causes  that  contributed 
to  this  state  of  mind.  The  confinement,  the 
long  hours,  the  monotonous  routine  of  his  days 
were  all  so  novel,  so  uncongenial  to  his  tem- 
perament. And  the  maddening  multiplicity  of 
detail  with  which  he  was  expected  to  familiarize 
himself  wearied  and  harassed  his  simple  and 
direct  mind. 

And  oh,  how  he  missed  the  old  outdoor  life ! 
After  a  long  day's  confinement,  as  he  walked 
to  the  dismal  little  room  which  he  never  could 
even  think  of  as  "  home,"  the  heated  caverns 
which  New  York  calls  streets,  on  which  the 
blazing  sun  had  beaten  all  day,  at  this  hour 
reeking  with  an  endless  stream  of  perspiring 
and  irritated  humanity,  faded  away.  In  a  sort 
of  mirage,  he  saw  again  the  long  stretches  of 
the  river — his  river — on  which,  ages  ago,  he  had 
stroked  his  crew  to  victory. 

That  had  been  a  day!  It  did  not  seem  now 
that  it  could  be  real.  It  was  only  a  wonderful, 
happy  dream  that  he  had  dreamed.  Or  else  it 
had  happened  long,  long  ago  in  some  previous 
incarnation.  There  had  not  been  one  thing  to 
mar  the  whole  day  or  to  dim  their  splendid 
victory.  And  that  supreme  moment,  when  car- 
ried on  the  shoulders  of  the  yelling,  cheering 
throng,  he  had  seen  the  one  face  in  all  the  world 
— Ruth's  face — glowing  with  pride  and  happi- 
ness !  And  how  her  father  had  cheered ! 


166  LIFE 

Yes,  he  could  almost  have  imagined  that  he 
had  dreamed  it  all,  if  he  had  not  had  occasional 
reminders  that  it  was  all  real  when  he  chanced 
across  some  of  the  fellows  he  knew,  or  when 
sometimes  Mr.  MacLaren  came  into  the  bank. 
Mr.  Stuyvesant  always  improved  these  oppor- 
tunities to  point  out  the  young  man  busy  at  his 
desk  and  roar  with  laughter. 

"  There  he  is,  there  he  is!  That's  the  man 
who  gave  you  such  a  walloping.  It  must  make 
you  sore  to  see  him,  Mac !  ' '  And  he  would  dig 
his  friend  in  the  ribs  and  laugh  until  he  was 
purple  in  the  face.  Mr.  MacLaren  always 
scowled  portentously.  But  his  manner  to  Eeid 
was  most  cordial  and  friendly,  and  there  was 
a  look  of  approval  in  his  keen,  blue  eyes  when- 
ever they  rested  on  that  broad  back. 

But  the  greatest  of  his  woes,  besides  which  all 
his  other  troubles,  even  his  great  loneliness, 
dwindled  into  insignificance,  was  because  of 
Ruth.  She  was  in  Europe  with  some  friends. 
To  be  sure,  she  wrote  regularly.  Her  letters 
were  the  only  thing  that  made  life  even  tolera- 
ble. How  he  read  them  and  reread  them !  They 
were  on  the  point  of  falling  apart  at  the  creases. 
He  intended  showing  them  to  her  on  her  return. 

Of  course  he  did  not  really  want  her  back. 
He  was  hardly  brute  enough  for  that.  But  all 
the  same,  he  counted  the  hours  until  her  return. 
Even  if  he  couldn't  see  her  often,  the  knowl- 
edge that  she  was  there,  in  the  big  house  on 
the  Avenue,  would  have  been  tremendously  com- 


LIFE  167 

forting.  He  could  at  least  have  walked  by  it 
late  at  night,  or  stood  across  the  street  and 
looked  up  at  the  window  which  he  knew  to  be 
hers,  after  the  foolish  manner  of  lovers.  As 
it  was,  he  shunned  the  great  empty  house,  with 
its  drawn  blinds  and  its  boarded-up  entrance, 
always  making  a  detour  to  avoid  it  when  any 
errand  called  him  to  the  neighborhood. 

Mr.  Stuyvesant  was  spending  his  summer  at 
his  big  country  place  on  Long  Island.  He,  too, 
missed  his  daughter  sorely.  But  he  had  in- 
sisted on  Ruth's  accepting  the  invitation,  pro- 
testing that  he  had  all  sorts  of  pla  as  for  the 
summer  which  her  presence  would  only  inter- 
fere with,  and  that  a  man  wanted  a  little 
freedom  from  his  womankind  once  in  a 
while. 

Ruth  understood  perfectly  that  all  his  blus- 
tering cloaked  an  unselfish  desire  to  give  her 
pleasure  and  that  he  would  be  terribly  lonely 
without  her.  But,  aside  from  the  fact  that  a 
trip  to  Europe  with  a  congenial  party  was  most 
tempting,  there  were  other  reasons  which  influ- 
enced her  in  coming  to  a  decision.  Ralph  and 
Anna,  who  had  no  country  place  of  their  own, 
and  who  usually  spent  the  summer  in  a  round  of 
visits,  promised  to  pass  the  greater  part  of  the 
time  with  his  father,  and  Ruth  hoped  that  the 
simple,  quiet  life  and  the  resumption  of  the 
closer  intimacy  which  they  had  known  in  his 
earlier  years  might  be  not  only  beneficial,  to 
Ralph,  but  might  serve  to  bring  them  more 


168  LIFE 

closely  together  than  they  had  been  for  many 
years. 

And  there  was  now  still  another  person  to  be 
considered:  her  lover.  She  foresaw  how  dif- 
ficult it  was  going  to  be  for  him  to  adapt  him- 
self to  a  life  so  radically  different  from  any 
he  had  ever  known.  But  she  knew  that  the  same 
pluck  and  determination  which  had  carried  him 
through  the  earlier  and  harder  years  at  the  uni- 
versity would  not  fail  him  in  this  new  test. 

Euth  was  in  many  ways  a  very  practical  per- 
son and  possessed  an  ability  to  look  facts  in  the 
face  unusual  in  a  girl  of  her  years.  While  her 
life  had  been  too  sheltered  a  one  for  her  to 
have  any  real  knowledge  of  poverty,  and  while 
her  ideas  of  the  value  of  money  when  it  came 
to  its  purchasing  power  were  of  the  vaguest, 
she  was  too  much  her  father's  daughter  not  to 
have  a  large  amount  of  that  desirable  quality 
called  common  sense  which  enabled  her  to  see 
things  in  a  large  way  in  their  proper  prospec- 
tive. 

Still,  for  her  the  world  was  in  general  divided 
into  two  classes :  the  people  who  were  in  actual 
want  of  the  necessities  of  life,  of  whom  one 
heard  and  read  with  a  heartache,  and  the  peo- 
ple who  lived  beyond  their  incomes  and  ran  into 
debt — Ralph,  for  example — or  had  to  economize 
and  give  up  their  opera-boxes  for  a  season  be- 
cause the  new  country  house  they  were  building 
had  cost  a  number  of  thousands  more  than  they 
had  anticipated.  But  if,  for  example,  she  had 


LIFE  169 

had  any  idea  of  the  salary  at  which  Mr.  Wil- 
liam Reid's  services  were  valued;  still  more 
could  she  have  looked  into  his  exceedingly  mod- 
est room  and  known  of  the  frugality  requisite 
to  stretch  that  same  salary  until  it  covered  the 
bare  necessities  of  life,  she  would  have  indig- 
nantly taken  the  first  boat  home  to  lodge  an  out- 
raged protest. 

As  it  was,  she  often  thought  of  him  tied  down 
to  his  desk  in  the  hot  town,  missing  the  old  com- 
panionship which  had  so  long  been  his,  and 
missing  her.  She  would  do  her  best  to  make  it 
up  to  him  on  her  return.  But,  for  the  present, 
it  was  better  that  she  should  be  away.  She  had 
the  vanity  to  believe  that  he  would  be  able  to 
apply  his  mind  to  learning  the  banking  business 
more  easily  with  the  ocean  between  them  than 
if  she  remained  at  the  other  end  of  a  telephone 
on  Long  Island. 

Of  one  thing  she  was  positive:  she  would 
never  have  been  strong-minded  enough  to  re- 
sist calling  him  up  several  times  a  day.  And 
she  would  have  certainly  wanted  him  to  come 
down  two  or  three  times  a  week,  and  of  course 
over  Sunday.  In  which  case  people  would  have, 
been  sure  to  suspect  something. 

For  their  engagement  was  still  a  secret. 
They  had  come  very  near  to  having  a  quarrel 
over  it.  But  on  this  subject  Euth  was  adamant. 
In  vain  her  lover  begged  and  pleaded.  Noth- 
ing could  alter  her  determination  to  keep  it 
secret  until  after  her  debut,  which  was  to  take 


170  LIFE 

place  in  the  early  autumn.  And  with  the  prom- 
ise that  after  that  important  event  he  might  go 
to  her  father,  he  had  to  be  contented. 

That  promise  and  her  letters  were  all  that 
kept  him  going.  Without  them,  he  afterwards 
said,  he  would  never  have  been  able  to  stick  it 
out.  Even  with  them  to  buoy  him  up,  he  had 
his  days  of  black  discouragement,  when  nothing 
could  go  right.  There  were  nights  when,  sitting 
in  his  mean  little  room,  he  grew  sick  at  heart 
at  the  recollection  of  the  blunders  he  had  made 
during  the  day,  or  the  things  that  he  had,  some- 
how, contrived  to  forget.  At  such  moments  he 
bitterly  told  himself  that  he  was  being  kept  on 
out  of  charity,  or  what  amounted  to  the  same 
thing,  out  of  gratitude:  that  a  lad  of  fifteen 
could  perform  his  simple  duties  better  than  he. 
How  he  longed  for  anyone  to  whom  he  could 
have  poured  out  his  troubles!  But  alas!  The 
person  to  whom  he  would  have  so  gladly  turned 
was  on  the  other  side  of  the  world. 

There  was  another  thing  that  both  puzzled 
and  worried  him.  And  that  was  Ealph's  atti- 
tude toward  him.  At  first  he  had  been 
friendly  enough,  putting  him  up  at  one  of  his 
clubs  which  boasted  of  an  excellent  gymnasium, 
where  he  was  able  to  get  a  little  much-needed 
exercise,  and  giving  him  cards  to  various  coun- 
try clubs  to  which  he  belonged,  which  turned 
the  desert  of  his  Sundays  into  a  comparative 
oasis.  But  before  the  summer  was  over  his 
manner  had  completely  changed.  He  no  longer 


LIFE  171 

came  lounging  over  to  Reid's  desk  several  times 
a  day  to  talk  of  racing  and  the  days  when  he 
had  been  coxswain  of  the  crew,  but  contented 
himself  with  giving  him  a  curt  nod,  when  he 
did  not  pretend  not  to  see  him.  For  a  long  time 
this  worried  Bill  a  good  deal.  Not  that  Ralph 
was  the  type  of  man  whom  he  found  at  all  at- 
tractive, but  he  was  Ruth's  brother,  and  he  was 
prepared  to  go  more  than  halfway  to  establish 
a  friendship. 

He  ended  by  attributing  the  change  to  the  in- 
fluence of  Burnett,  between  whom  and  himself 
there  had  not  been  from  the  first  the  faintest 
pretense  of  friendliness.  The  Junior  Partner's 
thinly  veiled  hostility  showed  itself  on  numer- 
ous occasions.  But  all  his  attempts  to  provoke 
the  anger  of  the  new  employee  met  with  defeat. 
Bill  Reid  was  there  to  learn  the  banking  busi- 
ness, and  to  learn  it  well  and  thoroughly.  He 
was  not  to  be  diverted  from  his  purpose  by  any 
amount  of  nagging  by  such  a  man  as  Thomas 
Burnett. 

And  then,  just  at  the  moment  when  he  had 
almost  decided  to  go  to  Mr.  Stuyvesant  and 
acknowledge  that  the  experiment  had  been  a 
failure,  that  he  somehow  seemed  to  lack  the 
capacity  necessary  for  business,  and  had  there- 
fore better  seek  some  employment  which  re- 
quired muscle  and  not  brain,  he  found  that  all 
his  problems  had  solved  themselves  in  some 
mysterious  manner  overnight.  The  work, 
which  only  the  day  before  he  had  been  on  the 


172  LIFE 

point  of  abandoning  as  too  complex  for  so  mean 
an  intellect  as  his  became  not  only  simple  but 
interesting  as  well.  The  hours  at  the  bank  were 
no  more  like  hours  spent  in  prison.  His  fellow- 
clerks  became  human  and  likable.  The  very  sun 
seemed  to  shine  with  more  kindly  intent.  The 
air,  which  during  the  stifling  summer  had  been 
heavy  and  lifeless,  as  if  it  had  been  breathed 
before,  acquired  a  new  invigorating  quality. 
Ruth  was  on  her  way  back!  It  was  the  letter 
which  he  carried  in  his  pocket,, giving  the  date 
of  her  sailing,  that  had  worked  all  these 
miracles. 

And  as  if  Fortune,  who  had  turned  her  back 
on  him  during  all  these  hard  months  of  ap- 
prenticeship, was  desirous  of  proving  that  she 
had  relented,  his  cup  of  happiness  brimmed 
over  when  Mr.  Stuyvesant,  the  day  after  he 
had  moved  back  to  town,  sent  for  him  to  tell  him 
that  he  had  been  so  pleased  at  the  reports  of 
his  steadiness  and  application  that  he  had  de- 
cided to  make  him  his  secretary  at  a  substan- 
tial advance  in  salary.  What  news  for  Ruth ! 

Calendars  are  foolishly  inadequate  things. 
They  do  no  more  than  record  the  bald  succes- 
sion of  days.  But  when  it  comes  to  measuring 
the  flight  of  time  they  are  peculiarly  useless. 
According  to  the  one  that  hung  over  the  crazy 
table  in  young  Mr.  Reid's  room — heavily 
scarred  with  marginal  notes  and  private  mem- 
oranda— no  one  could  possibly  have  told  that 
July,  August  and  September  had  been  perfectly 


LIFE  173 

endless  and  that  October,  now  nearly  over,  had 
flown  like  the  wind. 

In  the  two  weeks  since  Ruth's  return  they 
had  had  several  delicious  luncheons  together, 
they  had  had  walks  in  the  Park  and  they  had 
met  several  times  in  the  Natural  History 
Museum.  And  while  over  all  their  meetings 
there  hung  something  of  the  furtive  and  clan- 
destine which  could  not  fail  to  be  distasteful  to 
her  lover,  they  were  too  happy  in  being  together 
after  their  long  separation,  there  was  so  much 
to  tell  on  both  sides;  so  many  plans  to  be  dis- 
cussed for  the  future — their  future — that  he  did 
not  openly  rebel,  sustained  as  he  was  by  the 
thought  that  all  this  hateful  secrecy  would  soon 
be  at  an  end. 

While  their  love  affair  was  progressing  thus 
satisfactorily  uptown,  down  in  the  office  of 
Stuyvesant  and  Company  another  young 
couple,  in  whom  Ruth  had  long  been  interested, 
were  testing  the  truth  of  the  adage  as  to  the 
smoothness  of  the  course  of  true  love. 

On  a  certain  day  Miss  Tessie  Maginnis,  one 
of  the  stenographers,  had  just  returned  from 
her  lunch  and  had  seated  herself  at  her  type- 
writer prepared  to  go  on  with  her  work,  when 
she  was  startled  at  receiving  an  ardent  kiss  on 
the  cheek. 

"  What  the Oh,  it's  you,  Dennis 

O'Brien!  " 

"Sure!"  said  the  watchman,  having  cau- 
tiously assured  himself  that  they  were  not 


174  LIFE 

likely  to  be  interrupted  by  a  hurried  glance  into1 
the  several  private  offices  which  opened  off  the 
room  where  Tessie  was  supposed  to  be  at  work. 
"  Were  you  thinkin'  it  would  be  anyone  else!  " 

"  Well,  you  had  your  nerve!  " 

"  Tessie,"  said  the  culprit  pleadingly,  "  have 
ye  thought  any  more  about  what  I  was  after 
sayin'  to  ye,  Tessie?  " 

"  And  me,  busy  as  I  am,  an'  botherin'  my 
head  with  foolishness!  Forget  it!  " 

She  made  a  great  show  of  rustling  the  leaves 
of  her  note  book  while  sending  a  sly  glance  in 
his  direction. 

"  But  Father  Kelly's  the  fine  man,"  went  on 
O'Brien,  a  propos  of  nothing  in  particular. 

"  Is  he,  then?  " 

"  Ye  ought  to  hear  him  do  that  weddin' 
service.  It's  grand!  " 

"  Oh,  the  weddin'  part's  all  right:  it's  after- 
wards! "  said  Miss  Maginnis  with  marked  em- 
phasis. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  A  nice  little  flat,  you 
know,  one  of  those " 

"  Yes,  I  know.  Where  you  have  to  go  out 
in  the  hall  to  change  your  mind." 

"  You  wouldn't  be  wantin'  to  change  your 
mind,  with  the  right  flat  and  the  right  fel- 
low," said  O'Brien  insinuatingly. 

"  Eoll  over,"  said  Miss  Maginnis  elegantly. 
"  You're  on  your  back!  " 

"  I'm  serious." 

"  You're  funny,  just  the  same." 


LIFE  175 

"  Do  you  never  think  of  havin'  your  own 
home — your  own  fireside?  " 

Tessie  addressed  herself  to  that  portion  of 
Heaven  represented  by  the  ceiling  of  the  office. 

"Fireside!  He  ain't  even  goin'  to  have 
steam  heat!  " 

"  With  your  own  little  kitchen  to  play  in," 
went  on  O'Brien  with  the  air  of  an  enthusiast 
carried  away  by  his  dream. 

Tessie  wheeled  about  in  her  chair  and  faced 
him. 

"  Say,  what  is  this?  Are  you  thinMn'  of 
gettin'  married?  " 

11  I  am  so." 

"  Well,  I  hope  you'll  invite  me." 

"  You'll  be  there  " — with  deep  meaning. 

"  That's  good." 

O'Brien  permitted  himself  to  come  a  step 
nearer,  only  to  be  squelched  by  the  lady's  next 
remark. 

"  Sure,  I'll  come.  I'd  like  to  see  the  sort 
of  a  girl'd  take  you." 

"Indeed!"  he  retorted  indignantly.  "I 
don't  mind  tellin'  you,  Miss  Smarty,  there  are 
lots  of  'em  as  would." 

Tessie  had  to  cover  a  laugh  with  a  cough. 

"  I  don't  doubt  it.  You  know  what  Barnum 
said :  one  born  every  minute." 

"  Is  that  so!  Well,  let  me  tell  you  that  this 
one  is  a  very  particular  friend  of  yours. ' ' 

"  I  wouldn't  be  surprised.  The  smartest 
girl  in  my  class  married  a  man  in  Blooming- 


176  LIFE 

dale.  It'll  be  just  my  luck  to  get  a  crook  out 
of  Sing  Sing." 

At  these  words,  O'Brien's  face  underwent  a 
remarkable  change.  The  look  which  Ruth  had 
long  ago  characterized  as  "  hunted,"  which  he 
had  lost  for  the  moment,  returned  and  deep- 
ened in  his  eyes.  Tessie,  who  had  been  expect- 
ing a  Rowland  for  her  Oliver,  caught  it  as  she 
looked  up  at  him. 

"  That's  all  right,  Miss  Tessie,"  he  said 
huskily,  "  forget  it.  I  was  just  kiddinV 

Her  own  look  of  blank  amazement  was  suc- 
ceeded by  one  of  shame  and  indignation.  She 
seemed  as  if  she  were  about  to  cry. 

"  Kiddin',  were  you?  And  I'm  much 
obliged  to  you,  Mr.  O'Brien,  for  lettin'  me 
know  what  kind  of  a  gentleman  you  are." 

"  Tessie,  I— I " 

"It's  Miss  Maginnis  from  you,  Mr.  O'Brien, 
I'd  be  pleased  to  have  you  remember!  " 

"  No,  I'll  be  damned  if  it  is!  "  He  had  been 
kicking  up  the  end  of  the  rug  with  the  toe  of 
his  shoe;  watching  it  roll  back  with  absorbed 
interest.  But  now  his  head  flew  up  and  he 
looked  her  straightforwardly  in  the  face. 
''I'm  not  a-goin'  to  let  you  think  I'm  the  kind 
of  a  guy  that  would  make  love  to  a  girl,  and 
then  run  away.  I'm  goin'  to  tell  you  the  truth, 
no  matter  what  you  think  of  me.  I'm  not  goin' 
through  with  it  because — because  I  ain't  fit  to 
marry  you.  What  you  just  said  made  me  come 
to  meself.  I  love  you  too  much,  darlin',  to  let 


LIFE  177 

you  take  up  with  a  man  you  might  one  day  be 
ashamed  of.  So,"  he  finished  in  a  low  voice, 
"  we'll  just  forget  that  little  dream,  Tessie 
Maginnis. ' ' 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  forget  it,"  said  Tessie, 
gulping  back  a  sob. 

"  Darlin'!    But,  no,  it  ain't  right." 

"It's  a  cinch  it  ain't  right,"  said  Tessie 
tearfully,  "  what  you're  doin'  now.  Stealin' 
the  heart  out  of  a  girl  and  then  sayin':  *  No, 
thank  you!  '  I  want  to  know  why  you  ain't 
fit,  an'  I  got  a  right  to  know.  Maybe  I  ain't 
no  tin  angel  m'self." 

She  hid  her  face  in  her  handkerchief. 

"  It's — it's — ah,  you  hit  it  when  you  said 
something  just  now  about  Sing  Sing,  an' 
stealin'!  " 

' <  Sing  Sing !  Stealin ' ! !  You ! ! !  "  He* 
voice  was  hardly  more  than  a  whisper,  but  it 
seemed  to  fill  the  room. 

"  My  picture's  over  in  the  Eogue's  Gallery. 
I  done  my  bit.  I'm  an  ex-con." 

"You!    A  thief.    A  pickpocket?  " 

"  Pickpocket!  "  he  exclaimed  wrathfully. 
* '  What  do  you  think  I  am?  I  was  Kid  Wallace, 
the  bank  burglar;  the  biggest  safe-blower  in 
the  country." 

Amazement  and  admiration  were  in  her  face. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  that's  a  man's  job,  any- 
how. Why,  I've  heard  of  you  often.  Every- 
body around  banks  knows  of  Kid  Wallace." 

He  smiled  with  a  touch  of  bitterness.     "  I 


178  LIFE 

guess  we  give  the  banks  reason  to — me  an'  my 
pal,  Joe  Schmidt,  Dutch  Joe." 

"  Oh!  "  exclaimed  Tessie  in  sudden  horror, 
"  then  you're  here  to " 

"  No,  no!  On  the  level,  Tessie.  I'm  square 
now.  I've  been  square  since  I  come  out — near 
on  to  three  years.  I  know  it  must  look  funny, 
my  being  here  as  watchman  with  my  rep.,'"' 
he  went  on  after  a  moment,  "  but,  you  see, 
when  I  come  out,  I  just  naturally  drifted  to  a 
bank.  Kinder  seemed  second  nature  to  me  to 
be  hanging  round  a  bank  vault." 

He  waited  a  moment  for  her  to  speak.  But 
as  she  seemed  to  be  at  a  loss  for  words,  he 
misinterpreted  her  silence. 

"  All  right.  I  don't  blame  you.  I  know  I 
ought  to  have  told  you,  but " 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do?  "  she  asked  in 
a  low  tone. 

"  Quit  my  job,  first  off.  Couldn't  stand 
bein'  round  seein'  you  and  thinkin'  of  what 
might  have  happened  if  I  had  been  different. 
Yes,  I'll  quit.  And  then " 

"  You'll  go  back  to  saf e-blowin ',  maybe?" 

"  No,  by  God  I  won't!  When  I  come  out  of 
prison  I  swore  I'd  turn  square,  and  I'm 
goin'  to  play  it  out  on  that  string,  no  matter 
what." 

Tessie  got  slowly  to  her  feet,  and  stood  look- 
ing down  at  her  machine  as  if  it  were  some 
strange,  unfamiliar  thing  she  had  never  seen  be- 
fore. 


LIFE  179 

' '  I  wish, ' '  she  said  after  a  long  pause,  ' '  you 
wouldn't  quit  the  job  on  my  account.  I  couldn't 
stand  it  either,"  she  said  with  sudden  passion, 
"  not  seein'  you  round,  and  thinkin'  of — of  what 
might  have  been  if " 

"  Tessie!  " 

"  Besides,  if  you  quit  " — her  voice  was 
tremulous,  but  there  was  just  the  suggestion  of 
a  smile  about  the  corners  of  her  lips — "  how 
are  you  going  to  pay  the  rent  of  the  flat?  " 

"You  darling!  " 

He  seized  her  in  his  arms  just  as  Eeid  came 
hurriedly  into  the  room  on  his  way  to  Burnett 's 
private  office. 

"  Don't  mind  me,  children.  Go  to  it!  "  he 
called  with  a  sympathetic  grin. 

Tessie  gave  a  little  shriek,  but  stood  her 
ground  bravely;  while  O'Brien,  manlike,  was 
covered  with  confusion  and  beat  a  hasty  re- 
treat. 

"  He's  a  fine  fellow,  O'Brien,"  said  Eeid 
heartily. 

"  So  he  says!  "  said  Tessie  with  withering 
scorn  as  she  looked  after  the  retreating  figure 
of  her  cowardly  lover. 

"  You  mustn't  be  too  hard  on  him,"  laughed 
Eeid.  "  Has  Mr.  Burnett  come  back  from 
lunch?  " 

At  that  moment  the  door  leading  from  Bur- 
nett's private  office  to  the  outer  hall  slammed 
sharply. 

"  "WTiat  is  it?    Who  wants  me?  "he  snapped. 


180  LIFE 

"  Mr.  Jackson  told  me  to  call  your  attention 
to  this,  Mr.  Burnett." 

Eeid  went  over  to  him  and  handed  him  a  slip 
of  paper. 

"  Well?  "  said  Burnett,  taking  the  paper 
without  looking  at  it. 

"  You  see  it's  a  loan  of  fifty  thousand  dollars 
on  a  thousand  shares  of  New  Haven.  The  bank 
called  it  to-day.  I  went  to  the  vault  to  get  out 
the  stock  and  it  isn't  there." 

"  And  what  business  did  you  have  to  go  for 
it?" 

Keid  flushed  under  the  insolence  of  the  tone, 
but  he  kept  himself  well  in  hand. 

"  I  wanted  to  hand  it  over  to  you  with  the 
memo." 

"  You  did.  Well,  in  the  future,  Mr.  Eeid,  will 
you  kindly  remember  that  you  have  no  business 
in  that  vault  in  any  conditions.  7  am  responsi- 
ble for  the  bonds  and  stocks  kept  there,  and  I 
don't  propose  having  irresponsible  secretaries 
and  clerks  prowling  around  millions  of  dollars' 
worth  of  securities  placed  under  my  charge." 

"  You  don't  mean  that "  began  Eeid 

angrily. 

"  I  mean  that  pulling  stroke  oar  for  a  crew 
doesn't  necessarily  make  you  indispensable  in 
a  bank,  Mr.  Eeid,  remember  that.  I  have  that 
stock  on  my  desk.  Tell  Mr.  Jackson  that  I  say 
to  extend  the  loan." 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  said  Eeid,  turning  on  his 
heel. 


LIFE  181 

"  Damned  young  cub!  "  said  Burnett  to  him- 
self. ' '  Glad  I  got  onto  that  in  time.  It  might 
have  been  serious."  And  he  slammed  the  door 
into  the  outer  office. 

"  Looks  like  he  didn't  enjoy  his  lunch,"  com- 
mented the  philosophical  Tessie. 


CHAPTER  XH 

THERE  was  nothing  showy  or  brilliant  about 
Bill  Reid.  Not  that  he  was  at  all  stupid.  He 
was  just  an  average  sort  of  person  mentally. 
What  he  lacked  in  quickness,  he  made  up  in 
clear-headedness.  And  he  had  a  strong  sense 
of  justice.  For  that  reason,  just  because  he 
had  from  the  first  felt  an  instinctive  distrust 
and  dislike  for  Tom  Burnett,  he  would  have 
been  the  last  person  in  the  world  to  have  ac- 
cused him,  even  in  his  own  mind,  of  anything 
that  was  not  perfectly  straight  in  his  conduct 
of  affairs  at  the  bank. 

All  the  same,  every  now  and  again  little 
things  came  under  his  notice  which  made  him 
vaguely  uncomfortable.  Each  time  this  hap- 
pened, he  reminded  himself  that  men,  not  only 
older  and  wiser  than  he,  but  men  who  had 
known  Burnett  for  a  number  of  years,  had  un- 
limited confidence  in  him.  And  he  would  end 
by  taking  himself  severely  to  task  for  allowing 
his  own  personal  prejudice  to  color  his  judg- 
ment. And  then  again  something  would  happen, 
and  he  would  have  to  begin  the  old  argument 
with  himself  afresh. 

To-day,  for  example,  was  one  of  these  times. 
It  wasn't  that  Burnett's  tone  to  him  bordered 
on  the  insulting.  That  had  happened  before. 

182 


LIFE  183 

That  was  his  way  of  showing  that  Reid's  dis- 
like of  him  was  returned,  and  he  was  small 
enough  to  stoop  to  take  every  advantage  of  his 
superior  position.  But  just  now  he  had  be- 
trayed unmistakable  signs  of  nervousness  and 
agitation  which  his  displeasure  at  hearing  of 
Reid's  visit  to  the  securities  vault,  even  if  it 
were  not  largely  assumed,  could  hardly  account 
for.  Somehow,  Eeid  could  not  help  connecting 
the  man's  evident  trouble  with  a  scene  which 
he  had  witnessed  earlier  in  the  day. 

For  some  time  a  little  syndicate  of  bankers, 
personal  and  business  friends  of  Mr.  Stuy- 
vesant,  had  been  in  a  pool  to  control  Kentucky 
Iron.  For  several  days  the  market  had  been 
unusually  active  in  this  particular  stock.  So 
active,  indeed,  that  there  was  no  doubt  that 
there  was  an  organized  movement  on  foot  to 
wrest  the  control  away  from  them.  Davidson, 
Post  and  Davidson  were  the  brokers  who  had 
fought  them  most  strenuously  on  the  floor  of 
the  Stock  Exchange,  but  who  their  principals 
were  was  still  a  mystery. 

That  morning,  all  the  members  of  the  syndi- 
cate had  been  closeted  with  Mr.  Stuyvesant  in 
the  directors'  room  of  Stuyvesant  and  Com- 
pany. It  had  been  the  secretary's  duty  to  read 
the  quotations  from  the  ticker.  It  was  most  ex- 
citing to  stand  there,  letting  the  tape  run 
through  your  ringers,  occasionally  looking  up 
to  note  the  effect  upon  the  keen-faced  men 
seated  about  the  long  table. 


184  LIFE 

"  Kentucky  Iron  80— and  %.  200  at  a  quar- 
ter. 81  asked.  500  at  81—81%.  200  at  82. 
1,000  sold  at  the  eighth.  Kentucky  Iron  84  and 

jumping.  The  Bear  movement  is  checked 

Kentucky  Iron  still  climbing  at  85. ' ' 

Several  of  the  men  showed  the  relief  from 
the  strain  by  relaxing  from  their  stiff  attitudes. 
Old  Mr.  MacLaren  stretched  his  long  legs  to 
their  full  length  and  gave  a  boyish  laugh. 

"Well,  well!  It  was  a  narrow  squeak, 
though." 

With  general  exclamations  of  "  Good  day," 
"  See  you  later,"  "  I  wonder  how  the  other 
fellows  feel,"  and  "  Congratulations,"  they 
separated,  at  Mr.  Stuyvesant's  suggestion,  go- 
ing out  different  ways.  Only  MacLaren  lin- 
gered until  Reid  followed  the  last  man 
out. 

1 1  Want  to  see  you  a  minute, ' '  he  said  curtly. 

But  he  took  an  unconscionable  long  time  to 
light  his  cigar,  while  his  friend  waited. 

"  New  secretary  still  satisfactory?  " 

"Best  I  ever  had,  Mac." 

1 1  Good !  There 's  one  young  man  I  do  believe 
in." 

"  You  didn't  stay  behind  the  others  to  praise 
my  secretary." 

Mr.  MacLaren  took  from  his  waistcoat  pocket 
a  folded  piece  of  paper. 

"  Yesterday,  when  the  fight  was  hottest  and 
we  looked  licked,  this  was  presented  to  me — 
after  we'd  paid  it." 


LIFE  185 

He  held  out  the  piece  of  paper  to  his  friend. 

Mr.  Stuyvesant  unfolded  it  slowly. 

"  My  check.    For  twenty  thousand  dollars!  " 

"  Your  private  check  book,  mark  you.  Not 
a  firm  check." 

"  What  did  you  think?  "  asked  the  banker  in 
a  low  tone. 

"  If  it  had  been  brought  to  my  attention  be- 
fore it  was  paid,  I'd  have  stopped  it  and  'phoned 
you  because  I  thought  just  what  I  think  now: 
it's  a  forgery." 

"  Thanks,  Mac." 

He  held  out  his  hand,  and  for  a  moment  the 
two  old  friends  stood  with  clasped  hands  look- 
ing at  each  other  in  silence.  Finally  Mr.  Stuy- 
vesant spoke. 

"  Clever!  A  check  torn  out  of  the  back  of 
my  check  book.  And  the  signature — wonder- 
ful! " 

"  It's  someone  close  to  you,  Bill." 

"  Come  over  to  my  office.  We  must  get  to 
the  bottom  of  this." 

In  the  hall  they  ran  into  Eeid,  who  was  on 
his  way  to  see  Burnett  about  the  missing  New 
Haven  securities. 

"  Oh,  Reid,  just  a  moment.  Have  you  had 
any  occasion  to  take  my  private  check  book  out 
of  my  desk  for  any  reason?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Has  anyone  had  access  to  it  but  you?  " 

"  Not  to  my  knowledge,  sir.  Anything 
wrong?  " 


186  LIFE 

"  N-o-o.  Only  it  was  in  the  wrong  drawer. 
Wait  a  moment.  * ' 

He  took  a  note  book  from  his  pocket,  and 
writing  a  number  on  one  of  the  leaves,  tore  it 
out  and  handed  it  to  his  secretary. 

"  Call  this  number  for  me.  No,"  as  Eeid 
started  to  the  outer  office,  "  private.  Use  my 
own  telephone.  And  ask  Mr.  Anderson,  the  de- 
tective, to  come  to  see  me — privately — at  his 
earliest  convenience." 

"  Something  is  wrong,  then,  Mr.  Stuyvesant." 

"  We've  missed  some  stamps,  that's  all.  Get 
that  number  as  soon  as  you  can  and  let  me 
know  when  I  may  expect  Anderson.  After  all, 
Mac,  I'll  see  you  in  your  place  later  in  the  day. 
Good-by." 

When  Reid  tapped  on  his  door,  later,  he 
found  his  employer  pacing  the  floor,  looking 
more  agitated  than  he  had  ever  seen  him.  He 
thought  it  wiser  to  ask  no  further  questions, 
and,  having  told  him  that  Anderson  was  out 
of  town  for  a  day  or  two,  went  out  quietly, 
closing  the  door  behind  him. 

Burnett,  alone  in  his  office,  sat  gnawing  his 
nether  lip  viciously.  How  could  his  well-laid 
plans  have  gone  amiss?  Who  could  have  be- 
trayed him?  Not  Ealph — unless  he  had  let 
something  fall  when  he  was  drunk,  the  fool! 
And  that  was  hardly  likely;  surely  he  had 
enough  at  stake  to  make  him  cautious  even  in 
his  cups.  Not  Davidson — for  he  had  every- 
thing to  gain  and  nothing  to  lose  by  attending 


LIFE  187 

strictly  to  business.  No,  the  whole  thing  was 
simply  inexplicable  for  the  moment.  The  thing 
to  do  now  was  not  to  waste  time  speculating 
as  to  how  the  catastrophe  had  come,  but  to 
take  steps  to  retrieve  their  imperiled  fortunes. 
What  irony  that  that  infernal  stock  should  be 
wanted  to-day,  of  all  days ! 

The  telephone  on  his  desk  jangled  loudly. 
He  snatched  the  receiver  from  the  hook. 

"Hello,  hello!    Who  is  it?  " 

"  Mr.  Davidson,  of  Davidson  and  Post,"  came 
Tessie 's  voice. 

"  All  right.  Hello,  Davidson.  What?  Ken- 
tucky Iron  90!  Good  God!  What's  that!  Go- 
ing up  to  a  hundred?  What?  Damn  it,  I  can't 
hear  you!  You've  sold  twenty-five  thousand 
shares  for  me?  I'll  lose  thirty  dollars  on 
every  share:  three-quarters  of  a  million !"  he 
groaned. 

"  What?  I  must  send  you  more  money  or 
put  up  more  security?  You'll  have  to  sell  that 
thousand  shares  of  New  Haven?  No,  no,  no, 
man!  You  mustn't  do  that.  No,  you  mustn't. 
Now  look  here,  Davidson,  you  sell  me  out  now, 
and  by  God,  you'll  regret  it!  Very  well.  Now 
you're  talking  sense." 

He  hung  up  the  receiver,  and  for  a  moment 
paced  the  floor,  scowling  heavily.  Presently 
his  face  cleared.  Opening  the  door  he  called  to 
Tessie : 

"  Tessie,  if  anyone  wants  me,  I'll  be  down  in 
the  security  vault. ' ' 


188  LIFE 

And  opening  the  door  that  gave  on  a  cor- 
ridor, he  went  whistling  down  the  passage.  Ten 
minutes  later  he  was  back.  He  had  just  taken 
a  bundle  from  under  his  coat,  and  was  locking 
it  up  in  a  drawer  of  his  desk,  when  Ralph  came 
bursting  in,  shaking  with  excitement.  He 
turned  to  close  the  door  behind  him,  which  gave 
Burnett  time  to  light  a  cigarette.  He  was  smok- 
ing it  with  the  most  nonchalant  air  in  the  world 
when  his  quaking  partner  turned  to  confront 
him. 

11  Good  God,  Tom!  Have  you  seen  the 
market!  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Last  night  we  stood  to  win  nearly  a  mil- 
lion." 

"  Two  million  I'd  figured,  if  everything  went 
right." 

"  I  was  happy,  madly  happy!  I  didn't  go 
home.  Stayed  at  the  flat  with  Grace.  When 

I  got  up  at  noon  I  read How  much  have 

we  lost!  " 

"  Six  hundred  thousand  up  to  five  minutes 
ago.  Three-quarters  of  a  million,  I  should 
guess,  before  we're  clear." 

"  Three-quarters  of  a  million  of  the  bank's 
money?  Good  God,  Tom,  we're  criminals!  " 
Ralph  wrung  his  hands. 

"  What  the  hell  did  you  think  we  were — 
angels?  "  sneered  Burnett. 

With  a  groan  his  companion  sank  into  a  chair 
and  buried  his  face  in  his  hands. 


LIFE  189 

' '  Oh,  brace  up !  God  hates  a  quitter,  and  so 
does  everybody  else !  " 

11  If  they  should  find  out.    My  father !  " 

Burnett  made  a  gesture  of  impatience. 
"  How's  he  going  to  find  out?  I'm  in  charge  of 
the  security  vault.  Besides  that,  you're  his  son 
and  I'm  going  to  be  his  son-in-law." 

Ealph  sprang  to  his  feet  and  began  to  pace 
wildly  up  and  down  the  room. 

' '  Oh,  why  did  I  ever  let  you  persuade  me  to 
go  into  this  sort  of  thing !  ' ' 

Burnett  struck  his  fist  violently  together  in 
a  rage  which  was  only  partly  assumed. 

' '  Why  did  you  let  yourself  be  persuaded ! 
I'll  tell  you  why.  You  had  neither  the  brains 
nor  the  courage  to  work  the  scheme  yourself. 
And  when,  long  ago,  you  were  so  deep  in  debt 
that  you  didn't  know  where  to  turn  you  jumped 
at  the  chance  when  I  suggested  it.  I  admit  that. 
The  idea  was  mine.  But  if  you  hadn't  tied 
yourself  up  with  an  expensive  woman  like 
Grace,  we  could  have  followed  out  my  original 
plan  and  only  taken  a  flyer  now  and  again. 
But  to  keep  up  your  two  establishments,  we 
have  had  to  keep  hammering  at  it.  I  tell  you, 
it  is  your  fault.  You  got  us  into  this  scrape, 
and  I'm  going  to  get  us  out  of  it.  I  don't 
intend  to  listen  to  any  more  whining  from 
you!" 

"All  right,  Tom,  all  right.  I'm  grateful, 
truly  I  am.  I  know  it's  really  my  fault.  If 
only  you'll " 


190  LIFE 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  you  realize  that." 

"  Only,"  said  Ralph,  avoiding  the  other's 
eye,  "  there's  one  thing  more." 

"  Well?  " 

"  I — I — well,  there's  a  check  out  for  twenty 
thousand  dollars  that  may  cause  trouble." 

"  A  check  for  twenty  thousand  dollars!  " 

"  My  father's  name  is  signed  to  it.  I — I 
signed  it."  His  voice  was  hardly  more  than  a 
whisper. 

This  time  Burnett  did  not  have  to  simulate 
rage. 

"  You  forged  your  father's  name  for  twenty 
thousand  dollars!  You  damned,  piking,  little 
fool!  You  took  the  chance " 

"  I  was  desperate,  I  tell  you!  I — I'd  prom- 
ised Grace  a  sable  coat.  I — I  had  to  make 
good." 

"  So  you  took  the  chance  of  throwing  every- 
thing over  to  give  a  sable  coat  to  a " 

"  Don't  say  anything  against  her.  I  love 
her." 

Burnett  stared  at  him  in  genuine  amazement. 
For  the  moment  the  color  had  returned  to 
Ralph's  white  face.  He  held  his  head  up  and 
looked  at  him  with  shining  eyes.  And  it  was 
Grace  who  had  been  able  to  rouse  the  only 
spark  of  manhood  he  had  seen  in  Ralph  for 
years.  The  little  coward  had  actually  sum- 
moned up  the  courage  to  speak  in  her  defense. 
Truly  she  was  a  wonderful  woman ! 
There  came  a  tap  at  the  door. 


LIFE  191 

"  Miss  Stuyvesant  and  Mrs.  Ralph  Stuy- 
vesanl  have  just  come,"  announced  Tessie. 

"  Say  we'll  be  right  with  them." 

"  Take  hold  of  yourself  now,  Ralph,  for  God's 
sake.  You  look  as  if  you  had  slept  in  that 
collar.  You'll  find  some  clean  ones  on  the  shelf 
in  my  washroom.  I'll  tell  the  girls  you'll  be 
right  out." 

He  came  out  to  them  as  debonnaire  and  smil- 
ing as  if  he  had  not  an  anxiety  in  the  world. 

"  Ladies,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  shook  hands 
with  each  of  them,  "  it  is  seldom  that  we  are 
honored  by  a  visit  from  you  both  together. 
Don't  tell  me  that  it  means  a  raid  on  the 
bank!" 

"  Nothing  so  desperate,  I  assure  you," 
smiled  Ruth.  "  But  father's  been  taking  ad- 
vantage of  my  being  unusually  busy  to  come 
home  at  all  hours.  I  intend  to  see  that  he  comes 
home  early  to-night." 

"  And  Ralph's  been  following  his  bad  ex- 
ample, ' '  chimed  in  Anna.  ' '  Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  He'll  be  right  here.  He  had  some  papers 
to  sign  first." 

They  had  been  chatting  only  a  few  moments 
when  Ralph  appeared  in  the  doorway,  looking 
greatly  refreshed.  Ruth,  to  whom  of  course 
Anna  had  confided  the  fact  that  he  had  not  been 
home  at  all  two  nights  during  the  week,  wishing 
to  leave  them  alone,  announced  that  she  was 
going  in  search  of  her  father. 

"  Tessie,"  said  Burnett,  "  I  shall  have  some 


192  LIFE 

dictation  for  you  in  a  moment.  Wait  in  my 
office."  And  he  went  out  into  the  bank. 

"  Ealph,  dear,"  said  Anna  timidly,  "  you 
weren't  home  last  night.  That's  the  second 
time  this  week.  You  must  be  working  awfully 
hard." 

"  I  have  been  very  busy.  But  you  run  along. 
I'll  be  home  early  to-night." 

1 '  Very  well.  I  think  I'll  wait  for  Euth  in  the 
car." 

"  Why  not  wait  here.  She'll  only  be  a  min- 
ute." 

"  Oh,  will  she!  "  laughed  Anna.  "  She'll  not 
go  till  she  has  seen  Bill  Reid.  You  can  be  sure 
of  that.  Wake  up,  you  poor  silly.  One  would 
think  that  men  hadn't  eyes  in  their  heads !  And 
be  home  early." 

She  gave  another  laugh  as  she  looked  at 
Balph's  blank  face.  She  had  given  him  some- 
thing to  think  of. 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  said  Ealph,  follow- 
ing her  out,  as  Euth  and  Burnett  came  in'  from 
opposite  doors. 

"  He  literally  drove  me  out,"  laughed  Euth, 
pointing  to  her  father's  doo**. 

"  To  me?  " 

11  You  wouldn't  have  a  girl  who  was  driven 
to  you?  "  asked  Euth,  still  laughing. 

* '  Euth,  dear,  how  much  longer  are  you  going 
to  hold  me  off  ?  "he  asked,  catching  her  hand. 

Euth  sobered  instantly. 

' '  Please,  Tom.    Oh,  don 't,  Tom ! ' ' 


LIFE  193 

4 'Ruth,  I  love  you!" 

"  I  thought  that  was  all  settled,  Tom.  You 
hadn't  said  anything  since  that  day  on  the 
river.  I  thought  you  had  accepted  my  attitude, 
and — and  understood. ' ' 

"  No,  no!  As  long  as  you're  not  married  to 
any  other  man,  as  long  as  you're  not  in  love 
with  anyone  else,  I'll  never  give  up  hope." 

"  But  I  do  love  someone  else,  Tom." 

"  Who?  I've  a  right  to  ask  that,"  he  went 
on,  as  she  didn't  answer.  "  Who  is  it?  " 

"  Mr.  Eeid." 

"  That  damned " 

11  Tom!  " 

"  I  don't  care!    I " 

The  door  opened  and  Eeid  came  in,  advanc- 
ing with  a  happy  smile  and  holding  out  his  hand 
to  Euth. 

"  This  is  a  surprise.    I  thought " 

He  stopped,  looking  from  one  to  the  other. 

"  Bill,  I "  began  Euth. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  interrupted  Burnett. 
And  making  them  a  sweeping  bow,  he  went  back 
to  his  office  and  closed  the  door. 

"  I  told  him  that  we  were  in  love  with  each 
other." 

"  I'm  glad  you  did.  I  want  the  whole  world 
to  know  it. ' ' 

"  Oh,  the  whole  world  will  know  soon 
enough.  I'll  keep  my  promise.  Besides,"  she 
added  with  feminine  logic,  "  it's  none  of  the 
*  whole  world's  '  business!  " 


194  LIFE 

"  But " 

"  Now!  "  She  held  up  a  warning  finger.  "  I 
don't  want  to  tell  yet.  It's  more  romantic.  It's 
so  much  dearer  just  to  have  it  all  our  own 
secret.  Somehow,  it  seems  more  sacred." 

"  But  it  makes  me  feel  sort  of  sneaky.  To 
go  on  pretending  this  way.  If  you  would  only 
let  me  tell  your  father." 

"  Tell  him  I  "  said  Ruth  with  withering  scorn. 
"  Why,  he's  the  last  person  in  the  world  to  tell. 
He  never  could  keep  a  secret  in  his  life.  That's 
how  I  know  the  Masons  haven't  any.  I'd  have 
known  it,  if  they  had.  No,  I'll  not  tell  anybody 
until  the  day  after  my  ball. ' ' 

"  I  wonder  what  they'll  all  say.  That  I'm 
marrying  you  for  your  money,  probably." 

"  Nonsense!  " 

"I'm  not  much  of  a  catch,  you  know,  for 
Miss  Ruth  Stuyvesant." 

"  But  if  I  think  so,  don't  that  count  for  some- 
thing? " 

"You  darling!  " 

He  leaned  over  and  kissed  her  fondly. 

' '  And  when  we  have  our  little  home — just  big 
enough  for  us  and  our  love "  Ruth  went  on. 

"  We'll  never  be  able  to  afford  a  place  big 
enough  for  that. ' ' 

"  Dear !  "    She  held  up  her  face  to  be  kissed. 

"  Please  don't  mind  me!  "  said  Tessie,  com- 
ing out  from  Burnett's  office  with  her  note  book 
in  her  hand.  She  gave  Reid  a  maliciously  mis- 
chievous look.  It  was  her  turn  now. 


LIFE  195 

"  Oh!  "  said  Ruth,  starting  back,  her  face 
crimson. 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  said  Tessie  airily. 
"  Mr.  Reid  caught  me  kissing  the  man  I'm  go- 
ing to  marry,  just  a  little  while  ago." 

' '  Tell  me  about  him, ' '  said  Euth,  going  over 
to  Tessie 's  table. 

"  He 's  got  such  a  nice  name.  Dennis — Dennis 
O  'Brien.  Do  you  know,  when  he  asked  me " 

"  Did  he  ask  you  if  he  might  kiss  you?  " 

"  Ask  me !  If  he'd  have  asked  I'd  have  killed 
him!  " 

"  So  would  I.  Any  girl  would!  "  agreed 
Ruth  with  spirit. 

"  I'll  get  him,"  said  Tessie,  jumping  up  and 
running  to  the  door. 

"  Dennis,  Dennis!  "  she  called  softly,  "  come 
here." 

Ruth  and  Bill  exchanged  glances  of  amuse- 
ment, as  Tessie  returned,  leading  her  embar- 
rassed swain  by  the  hand. 

"  How  are  you,  O'Brien?  "  said  Ruth  warmly. 
"  What's  this  I  hear  about  you!  " 

"I'm  grand,  Miss  Ruth,  just  grand,"  grinned 
Dennis. 

"  She's  engaged,  too,"  explained  Tessie. 

"  Are  you,  now!    It's  fine,  ain't  it?  " 

"  You  bet  it  is,"  said  Reid. 

"  When  are  you  going  to  be  married?  "  asked 
Ruth. 

"  Not  decided,"  said  Tessie. 

"  Next  week,"  said  O'Brien  with  emphasis. 


196  LIFE 

"  Well,  I  never!  Do  you  hear  the  man!  " 
asked  Miss  Maginnis  scornfully. 

"  Who's  going  to  stand  up  with  you, 
Dennie?  " 

"I'd  like  to  get  a  gentleman  named  Bill  Eeid, 
if  he " 

"  Then  I  know  who's  going  to  be  maid  of 
honor,"  interrupted  Ruth. 

'•  You  wouldn't!  "  Tessie  threw  both  arms 
round  Ruth's  neck  and  gave  her  a  resounding 
kiss.  Immediately  she  was  covered  with  con- 
fusion at  the  thought  of  her  own  daring. 

"  There's  goin'  to  be  some  class  to  this  wed- 
din,'  "  said  O'Brien  enthusiastically. 

"  O'Brien!  Where's  O'Brien?  "  called  Mr. 
Stuyvesant's  voice. 

"  Wouldn't  anybody  know  that  the  boss  would 
have  to  spoil  the  party!  "  asked  Tessie,  in  an 
aggrieved  aside. 

"  Here  I  am,  Mr.  Stuyvesant,"  answered 
0  'Brien  as  he  started  on  a  run  for  the  door. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

AT  the  doorway  lie  nearly  collided  with  his 
employer  and  a  bull-necked,  heavy-jawed  man 
of  abont  forty,  with  a  stubby  black  mustache 
and  a  pair  of  keen  gray  eyes. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  he  was  saying,  in  reply  to 
something  that  Mr.  Stuyvesant  had  asked, "  I've 
got  a  new  fool  to  break  in  down  at  the  shop. 
He  doesn't  know  the  regular  people  yet,  and  I 
always  tell  him  to  tell  strangers  that  I'm  out  of 
town.  You  never  know  who  may  be  buttin'  in." 

' '  Daughter, ' '  began  Mr.  Stuyvesant,  in  a  wor- 
ried manner,  "I'm  very  busy  just  now,  and 
you  hadn't  better  wait." 

'  *  All  right,  father.    Oh,  where  is  my  bag  !  ' ' 

"  Here  it  is,  Miss  Ruth,"  said  Tessie,  fetch- 
ing it  from  her  desk. 

"  O'Brien,  show  Mr.  Anderson  into  my  pri- 
vate office.  I'll  be  with  you  in  a  minute,  An- 
derson." 

But  neither  Anderson  nor  0  'Brien  moved 

"  He's  the  detective,"  whispered  Tessie. 

* '  And  what  may  you  be  doin '  below  the  dead 
line!  "  asked  Anderson  with  a  sneer. 

"I'm  workin'."  Dennis  ran  his  tongue  over 
his  dry  lips.  His  voice  was  husky. 

"  Workin'?  Gettin'  ready  for  a  job,  you 
mean." 

197 


198  LIFE 

"  What's  the  matter,  Anderson?  This  man, 
0  'Brien,  has  been  in  my  employ  for  a  couple  of 
years." 

"  I  guess  then  you  don't  know  him,  Mr.  Stuy- 
vesant.  0  'Brien  is  his  name,  all  right.  But  his 
moniker  in  the  crook  world  is  Kid  Wallace,  the 
notorious  bank  burglar  and  hold-up  man.  He's 
the  most  dangerous  safe-blower  in  the  country. 
He's  done  time  in  Sing  Sing  and  Dannemora. 
A  watchman  in  a  bank !  Say,  I  got  ter  hand  it  to 
you,  Kid!" 

"  Is  this  true,  O'Brien,"  demanded  Mr.  Stuy- 
vesant  sternly. 

O'Brien  drew  a  long  breath.  He  had  been 
standing  a  shamefaced  figure  with  bowed  head. 
But  now  he  straightened  up  and  looked  his  em- 
ployer full  in  the  face.  There  was  something 
of  the  light  of  battle  in  his  eyes.  Ruth  had 
started  forward  at  the  detective's  words,  but 
Reid  laid  a  detaining  hand  on  her  arm.  She 
nodded  that  she  understood.  Dennis  should 
have  his  chance  to  be  heard. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Stuyvesant,  it  is.  But  what  he 
don't  tell  you  is  that  I  switched,  and  for  three 
years  I've  been  runnin'  straight.  Oh,  you  cops 
never  tell  that  part!  "  He  turned  fiercely  on 
Anderson,  who  still  smiled  his  sneering  smile. 
11  A  guy  that's  started  wrong  has  a  great 
chance  to  run  straight  with  you  fellows  at  his 
heels !  One  hell  of  a  chance !  ' ' 

He  took  off  his  cap  and  began  unbuttoning 
his  coat. 


LIFE  199 

"  What  are  you  doing,  O'Brien?  Where  are 
you  going?  "  asked  Ruth,  coming  forward 
quietly. 

"  I  don't  know,  Miss  Euth.  Do  you  think 
he'd  leave  me  here?  Do  you  think  I'd  stay  if 
he  did?  Why,  the  first  thing  that's  pulled  off 
south  of  the  dead  line  they'd  take  me  and  send 
me  away.  I  wouldn't  have  a  chance.  Just  be- 
cause I'm  an  ex-con. !  " 

"  You've  got  the  dope  all  right,"  Anderson 
agreed.  "  You  come  with  me.  I  think  I  know 
something  you're  wanted  for  anyhow." 

At  these  words,  Tessie,  who  had  borne  up 
bravely  until  now,  broke  down  completely,  sob- 
bing her  heart  out  with  her  head  on  the  type- 
writer. 

"  Just  one  moment,  Mr.  Anderson,"  rang  out 
Euth's  clear  voice.  "  You  are  not  going  to  take: 
Dennis  O'Brien." 

"  No?  "    Anderson  was  plainly  amused. 

"No." 

"May  I  ask  why?  " 

"  Because  I  won't  let  you." 

"  And  where  do  you  come  in  on  this?  " 

"  My  daughter "  began  Mr.  Stuyve- 

sant. 

"  Excuse  me,  Miss,"  said  Anderson,  taking 
off  his  hat,  "  I  didn't " 

"  I'll  make  myself  responsible  for  him," 
Euth  went  on.  "  He's  been  honest  for  three 
years,  and  he's  going  to  marry  this  poor  little 
girl  here.  She's — she's  a  friend  of  mine.  I 


200  LIFE 

won 't  let  you  spoil  their  happiness.  You  sha  'n  't 
take  him.  You  understand!  You  sha 'n't." 

"  But,  Ruth  dear,"  interposed  her  father, 
"  if  O'Brien  has  broken  the  law,  it's  Anderson's 
duty  to  take  him.  That's  the  law." 

"  I  don't  care  a  bit  about  his  duty,  and  I  don't 
give  two  straws  for  the  law.  He  sha 'n't  take 
him!" 

"  That's  a  woman  all  over  for  you!  "  said 
Anderson  disgustedly.  "  What  do  they  care 
about  law,  any  of  'em?  " 

"  Exactly  right,  Mr.  Anderson.  And  that's 
because  there's  far  too  much  law  and  too  little 
justice.  Do  you  think  yourself  that  it's  right  to 
put  this  man  in  prison  when  he's  trying  to  be 
honest!  To  ruin  h:3  life,  and  the  life  of  the 
girl  who  loves  him?  If  that's  law,  then  the  law 
can  go  to  the  devil !  ' ' 

"  Ruth!  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Stuyvesant  in 
horror. 

"  I  haven't  time  to  argue  with  you,  Miss 
Stuyvesant.  I 'm  only  paid  to  do  my  duty.  And 
my  duty  is  to  take  this  man,  and  I'm  goin'  to 
do  it.  Come  on,  O'Brien!  " 

"  Very  well.  But  I  warn  you,  and  I  warn 
you  too,  father,  if  O'Brien  is  taken  I  will  go 
on  his  bail.  And  I'll  employ  the  best  lawyer 
in  New  York  to  defend  him.  I  sha 'n't  stop  with 
making  my  fight  in  the  courts.  I'll  make  it  in 
the  newspapers.  Then  we'll  see  how  public 
opinion  judges  of  a  man  who 's  trying  to  do  right 
and  can't  get  a  chance." 


LIFE  201 

*t  My  dear,  you  don't  know  what  you're  say- 
ing !  ' '  protested  her  father. 

11  Oh,  yes  I  do,  father!  And  we'll  have  all 
the  publicity  I  can  get,  too.  I'll  take  up  a  col- 
lection myself  for  the  O'Brien  Defense  Fund. 
I'll  write  to  the  papers  to-night.  I'll  see  the 
reporters  to-morrow.  Tessie  and  Dennis  and 
I  will  all  have  our  pictures  on  the  front  pages. 
How  will  you  like  that !  You  can  stop  it,  if  you 
will.  But  you  must  act  quickly.  I'm  going  in 
a  minute  or  two.  And  I'll  begin  right  away  on 
my  campaign — unless  you  and  Mr.  Anderson 
can  arrange  to  leave  O'Brien  in  freedom." 

There  was  no  doubt  that  she  meant  every 
word  she  said. 

"  She's  a  Stuyvesant  all  over,  bless  her!  " 
said  her  father  to  himself.  Of  course  she 
should  have  her  way.  But,  after  all,  he  was  a 
little  sheepish,  as  he  turned  to  the  waiting  An- 
derson. 

11  After  all,  Anderson,"  he  said,  half  apolo- 
getically, "  the  man  has  been  honest  ever  since 
he  has  been  here.  Is  it  absolutely  necessary 
that  you  should  rake  up  his  unfortunate  past?  " 

"  Well,  Mr.  Stuyvesant,"  said  Anderson, 
scratching  his  head,  "  if  you  are  personally  in- 
terested in  the  matter,  I  suppose  I  could  let  him 
go — during  good  behavior." 

"  I  think  that  would  be  best.  And,  by  the 
way,  I've  changed  my  mind  about  seeing  you 
just  now.  I'll  telephone  you  later.  Perhaps 
to-night." 


202  LIFE 

"  O.  K.,"  said  Anderson,  putting  on  Ms  hat. 
"  You  can  thank  Miss  Stuyvesant,  O'Brien.'* 

"  Who  did  you  think  I  was  goin'  to  thank — 
you?  " 

"If  it  won't  interfere  with  '  the  right '  in 
any  way,  Miss  Stuyvesant,"  said  Anderson 
with  a  faint  sneer,  "  would  you  mind  telling 
me  why  you  make  such  a  fight  for  a  known 
crook?  " 

"  Certainly  not,  Mr.  Anderson,"  said  Euth 
with  a  laugh.  "  I'm  to  be  maid  of  honor  at  the 
wedding  next  week.  Do  you  suppose  I'd  let 
any  old  law  spoil  that?  " 

"  Good  Lord!  "  said  Anderson  fervently. 
And  he  went  out  shaking  his  head. 

"  Now,  Kuth  dear,"  expostulated  her  father, 
"  you've  taken  up  a  lot  of  my  time,  and  we're 
very  busy  here. ' ' 

' '  You  poor  man !  Never  mind,  I'm  going  this 
second.  And  thank  you  a  thousand  times!  *f 

"  Good-by,  Tessie.  Good-by,  O'Brien."  She 
patted  the  still  tearful  Tessie  on  the  shoulder. 
"  No,  no!  "  as  she  saw  Dennis,  with  brimming 
eyes  vainly  trying  to  command  his  voice  suf- 
ficiently to  put  his  thanks  into  words.  '  *  If  you 
want  to  thank  me,  rush  that  wedding !  ' ' 

And  followed  by  grateful  and  adoring  glances, 
she  and  Reid  went  down  to  the  automobile  and 
the  waiting  Anna. 

"  Find  Mr.  Ealph  Stuyvesant  and  Mr.  Bur- 
nett. I  want  to  see  them  at  once,  here."  Mr. 
Stuyvesant  spoke  almost  sharply  to  O'Brien- 


LIFE  203 

"  Take  your  things  into  Mr.  Burnett's  office, 
Miss  Maginnis.  I  want  this  room  for  consulta- 
tion. Close  the  door  after  you,  please." 

"  Well!  "  said  the  indignant  Tessie  to  her- 
self, "  of  all  the  grouches!  As  if  I'd  nothing 
better  to  do  than  listen  to  his  old  consulta- 
tions." And  then  recalling  the  part  he  had 
taken  in  freeing  her  lover,  she  was  immediately 
overcome  with  remorse,  and  blew  him  a  furtive 
Mss  from  the  doorway  when  she  saw  that  his 
back  was  safely  turned. 

Mr.  Stuyvesant  had  been  pacing  the  floor,  up 
and  down,  up  and  down,  for  nearly  ten  minutes 
before  Burnett  and  his  son  came.  He  looked 
both  tired  and  old.  He  had  taxed  himself  more 
than  usual  during  the  morning,  and  now  there 
was  this  new  trouble  to  face.  Tom  and  Ralph 
must  help  him.  He  was  determined  to  go 
through  with  the  matter  of  the  forged 
check  to  the  end,  let  the  trail  lead  where  it 
would. 

Ralph  and  Tom  arrived  almost  together.  But 
Ralph,  who  was  a  few  steps  in  advance,  had 
caught  a  look  on  his  father's  face  which  made 
him  lose  his  head  completely.  If  Burnett  had 
not  followed  him  so  closely  he  would  have 
broken  down  absolutely. 

"  Good  God,  father!    You " 

"  Ralph,"  cautioned  Burnett  in  an  undertone. 

"  Father  looks  so — so  serious,"  stammered 
Ralph. 

"  This  is  enough  to  make  us  all  serious,"  said 


204  LIFE 

Mr.  Stuyvesant  gravely,  holding  out  the  check 
that  MacLaren  had  given  him  to  Burnett. 
"Forged!" 

Burnett  gave  a  long  whistle. 

"  But  who  could  have  done  it!  " 

Mr.  Stuyvesant  shook  his  head.  Burnett 
handed  the  check  over  to  Ralph,  who  stood  star- 
ing at  it  as  if  fascinated. 

"  Besides  yourself,  Mr.  Stuyvesant,  who  is 
there  who  can  get  at  your  private  check  book?  " 

"  Only  Reid,  my  secretary.    But " 

"  How  was  it  cashed?  " 

"  Cashed  by  a  messenger  at  MacLaren 's 
bank." 

"  Can  the  messenger  identify  the  man  that 
gave  it  to  him?  " 

Ralph  drew  in  his  breath  sharply,  support- 
ing himself  by  the  back  of  a  chair. 

"  The  messenger  was  run  over  and  killed  an 
hour  ago, ' '  said  Mr.  Stuyvesant  solemnly. 

Ralph  wiped  the  sweat  from  his  forehead  and 
sank  into  the  chair. 

"I'm  sorry,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  there  is 
only  one  person  to  suspect :  Reid. ' ' 

"  I  can't  believe  it." 

"  Yes.  It's  Reid,  it's  Reid!  He  did  it!  " 
Ralph  was  almost  hysterical. 

Mr.  Stuyvesant  crossed  the  room  to  the  bell. 

"I'm  going  to  call  Reid  and  question  him. 
But  I  believe  he's  perfectly  honest." 

For  a  moment  the  silence  was  unbroken.  Mr. 
Stuyvesant  continued  to  pace  the  floor,  while 


LIFE  205 

Ralph,  warned  by  Burnett's  scowl,  fought  to 
regain  his  self-control. 

"  Did  you  want  to  see  me,  Mr.  Stuyvesant?  " 

As  he  stood  in  the  doorway  Mr.  Stuyvesant 
thought  that  he  had  never  seen  a  finer  or  man- 
lier figure  or  a  more  open,  candid  face.  Some- 
how, the  sight  gave  him  fresh  courage.  The 
man  never  in  the  world  was  guilty.  No  thief, 
since  the  world  began,  ever  wore  that  honest 
look.  Unless  he  were  to  confess  it  himself,  he 
never  would  believe  that  Bill  Reid  was  the 
forger. 

*  *  Sit  down,  will  you,  Mr.  Eeid.  I  wanted  to 
ask  you  if  you  knew  anything  about  this." 

He  handed  him  the  check,  and  stood  waiting. 
Reid  scrutinized  it  closely,  turned  over  and 
looked  for  the  indorsement,  and  handed  it  back, 
shaking  his  head. 

"  No,  sir.    Only " 

"  Only  what?  " 

"  Only  this  check  is  numbered  1,169.  And 
the  last  one  made  out  from  your  check 
book  was  1,068:  a  jump  of  a  hundred  num- 
bers." 

"  Exactly.  And  the  signature  and  indorse- 
ment are  both  forged. ' ' 

"Forged!" 

"  Now,  Reid,  who  has  had  that  book  besides 
yourself?  " 

"  Good  God,  Mr.  Stuyvesant!  You  don't 
think " 

"  It  isn't  what  I  think.    The  crime  has  been 


206  LIFE 

committed,  and  we  must  get  to  the  bottom  of 
it." 

' '  I  hope  we  may.    I'll  do  my  best  to  help. ' ' 

"  That's  very  kind  of  you,  I'm  sure,"  said 
Burnett  with  an  evil  sneer.  "  You  could  help 
us  a  lot  if  you  began  by  telling  us  what  you  did 
with  the  money." 

"  Yes !  What  did  you  do  with  it?  What  did 
you  do  with  it?  " 

Ealph  sprang  from  his  chair  and  rushed  over 
to  Reid  with  clenched  fist.  If  Burnett  had  not 
restrained  him,  he  might  actually  have  struck 
him  in  his  frenzy. 

"  Now  then,  you  damned  thief,  come  through 
and  tell  the  truth!  " 

"  I'll  call  the  police,  Mr.  Stuyvesant,"  said 
Burnett  briskly,  on  his  way  to  the  door. 

"  Wait!  "  Mr.  Stuyvesant  stopped  him  with 
a  gesture. 

"  Do  you  think  I  forged  that  check?  "  said 
Reid  to  Mr.  Stuyvesant.  His  quiet  manner 
contrasted  sharply  with  that  of  his  two  ac- 
cusers. 

"  I  know  you  did,"  called  Burnett  from  the 
door. 

"  We've  got  proof  of  it,"  blustered  Ralph. 

"  I  am  waiting,  Mr.  Stuyvesant,"  said  Reid, 
ignoring  the  others.  "  Do  you  think  that  I'm  a 
thief?  " 

"No,  Reid,  I  don't!" 

"  Thank  you,  sir." 

He  sprang  suddenly  to  his  feet  and  turned  on 


LIFE  207 

Burnett  and  the  cowering  Ralph.  '  *  As  for  you 
two — you  can  go  to  hell,  both  of  you !  ' ' 

Burnett  was  the  first  to  recover  himself. 

"  Very  well,  Mr.  Keid.  But  I  don't  think 
you'll  find  others  so  ready  to  take  your  unsup- 
ported word  as  Mr.  Stuyvesant.  This  matter 
doesn't  drop  here.  And  let  me  add  that  the 
man  who  would  steal  into  his  employer's  house 
and  try  to  win  the  love  of  his  daughter  behind 
his  back  when  she  is  as  good  as  engaged  to  an- 
other man  isn't  above  other  things  even  more 
dishonest." 

"What  is  this?  " 

Mr.  Stuyvesant  stood  staring  from  Reid  to 
Burnett  and  back  again  at  Reid. 

"  Mr.  Stuyvesant,  I  had  given  my  word 
to " 

"  If  you  are  about  to  speak  of  my  daughter, 
Mr.  Reid,  I've  only  one  word  to  say:  don't!  " 

"  I  have  caught  you  also,  Mr.  Reid,  hanging 
about  the  securities  vault.  I  shall  start  an  in- 
vestigation immediately  to  see  if  any  of  them 
happen  to  be  missing,  too." 

It  was  of  course  Burnett  who  spoke. 

"  If  any  securities  are  gone,  I  know  who  took 
them  and  so  do  you — and  your  brokers." 

"You  lying  thief!  " 

For  once  in  his  life  Burnett  lost  his  head.  He 
made  a  rush  for  his  enemy,  his  clenched  fist 
upraised.  The  next  second  he  was  picking  him- 
self up  from  the  floor,  holding  his  handkerchief 
to  his  bleeding  lip. 


208  LIFE 

"  Reid!    What  are  you  doing!  " 

"I'm  sorry,  Mr.  Stuyvesant.  I  just  couldn't 
help  it." 

"  I  demand  that  man's  arrest,"  snarled 
Burnett. 

"  Wait,  I  tell  you.  I  believe  I  am  still  the 
head  of  Stuyvesant  and  Company,  Mr.  Burnett. 
I  am  going  to  get  to  the  bottom  of  this,  but  in 
my  own  time,  and  in  my  own  way. ' ' 

"  He  goes,  or  I  go."  Here,  at  least,  Burnett 
was  sure  of  his  ground. 

For  an  instant  Mr.  Stuyvesant  hesitated. 
"I'm  sorry,  Reid,"  he  said  with  real  feeling. 
"  I  believe  you  are  honest.  But  Mr.  Burnett, 
here,  is  my  junior  partner,  my  son-in-law  to 
be  ' ' — here  he  froze  again  at  the  recollection  of 
what  Burnett  had  revealed.  "  I  must,  there- 
fore, ask  for  your  resignation,  and  I  am  sorry 
to  add  that  in  the  future  you  will  not  be  wel- 
come either  here  or  at  my  home." 

With  a  gesture  which  was  plainly  one  of  dis- 
missal, the  old  gentleman  turned  and  went 
slowly  into  his  private  room. 

Without  deigning  to  look  in  the  direction  of 
the  other  men,  Bill  Reid  went  out  to  the  cloak 
room,  and  getting  his  hat  and  coat,  went  down 
the  steps  of  Stuyvesant  and  Company  for  the 
last  time. 

He  dined  that  night  in  a  quiet  little  restaurant 
where  the  food  was  notably  good  and  well  pre- 
pared. He  even  treated  himself  to  a  better 
dinner  than  he  usually  thought  he  could  afford; 


LIFE  209 

smiling  as  he  gave  the  order  at  the  thought  that 
most  people  would  have  considered  that  a  young 
man  who  had  just  lost  his  position  and  might 
find  it  difficult  to  get  another,  being,  as  he  was, 
without  a  character,  would  naturally  judge  this 
a  most  appropriate  time  to  practice  the  virtue 
of  economy.  But  for  some  reason  or  other 
he  was  ravenously  hungry.  Possibly  a  reaction 
from  the  unusual  strain  he  had  been  under  the 
last  hours  of  the  day. 

He  had  gone  directly  home  after  leaving  the 
bank.  Once  in  his  room,  he  had  closed  the  old- 
fashioned  shutters  so  as  to  darken  the  room 
as  much  as  possible.  For  an  hour  or  more  he 
lay  prone  on  his  bed  with  his  eyes  closed,  going 
over  the  whole  situation  again  and  again. 

It  has  been  said  that  his  was  not  a  particularly 
quick  mind.  No  one  was  more  fully  aware  of 
this  than  Eeid  himself.  Therefore,  when  he  had 
as  knotty  a  problem  as  this  one  to  solve,  he  pur- 
posed taking  his  time  to  it.  He  was  happily 
the  possessor  of  a  strong  will,  and  early  in  life 
he  had  learned  the  lesson  of  self-control.  He 
had  had  his  moment  of  natural  weakness  that 
afternoon  when  he  had  allowed  his  temper  to 
get  the  best  of  him  and  had  knocked  Burnett 
across  the  table.  But  it  should  not  happen 
again.  He  would  not  permit  his  resentment  of 
injustice  to  interfere  with  his  judgment. 

When  he  finally  got  up  at  dinner  time,  he  had 
weighed  all  the  evidence  in  his  position  and  de- 
cided on  his  course  of  action.  Like  Burnett,  he 


210  LIFE 

had  no  intention  of  letting  the  matter  drop. 
But  he  must  see  and  consult  with  Euth.  As 
Mr.  Stuyvesant  had  been  unfair  enough  to  for- 
bid him  the  house  without  waiting  for  his  ex- 
planation, he  considered  himself  under  no  obli- 
gation not  to  see  Euth  as  soon  and  as  often  as 
possible. 

He  dismissed  the  idea  of  writing  to  her.  In 
his  present  mood,  her  father  was  quite  capable 
of  seeing  that  his  letters  were  not  delivered. 
Of  course  he  was  perfectly  familiar  with  his 
former  secretary's  writing.  And  then  the  idea 
of  appealing  to  Jennie  Bruce  had  come  to  him. 
She  was  Euth's  closest  friend  and  was  without 
doubt  more  or  less  in  her  confidence.  And 
Jennie  had  a  remarkable  faculty  for  making 
four  out  of  two  and  two.  Besides,  Eeid  himself 
liked  and  trusted  her  and  felt  that  his  lik- 
ing was  returned.  Jennie,  then,  should  help 
him. 

He  found  by  telephoning  her  that  she  was 
disengaged  for  the  evening.  Having  loitered 
over  his  coffee  until  it  was  within  a  half-hour 
of  the  time  she  had  suggested  that  her  father 
would  have  started  for  his  club,  he  paid  his 
check  and  walked  briskly  to  the  house,  which 
was  only  a  short  distance  away. 

He  found  Jennie  in  a  small  room  at  the  back 
of  the  house,  which  she  had  fitted  up  for  her 
own  particular  snuggery.  Here  she  received  her 
more  intimate  friends,  making  the  men  feel  per- 
fectly at  home  by  permitting  them  to  smoke  their 


LIFE  211 

pet  pipes  while  she,  of  course,  munched  choco- 
lates. Standing  in  front  of  the  fire — for  the  au- 
tumn evening  was  sufficiently  chill  to  give  an 
excuse  for  such  luxuries — looking  down  from  his 
great  height  at  Jennie  curled  up  on  a  divan  with 
the  inevitable  box  of  her  favorite  article  of  diet, 
he  told  his  story  slowly  and  carefully,  omitting 
no  detail  which  seemed  to  him  to  throw  any  light 
on  the  mystery. 

Jennie  listened  with  sympathy  and  intelli- 
gence. From  time  to  time  a  shrewd  little  smile 
flitted  across  her  handsome  face,  but  she  only 
interrupted  to  ask  some  pertinent  question  or 
to  make  some  comment  remarkable  for  its  keen- 
ness. « 

When  he  had  finished  with  his  appeal  to  her 
to  help  him  to  see  Euth,  she  rose  slowly  and 
stood  for  a  moment  looking  down  into  the  glow- 
ing bed  of  coals. 

"  You  haven't  said  whom  you  believed  to  be 
at  the  bottom  of  all  this.  You  needn't.  I  know 
who  is  in  your  mind,  and  I  agree  with  you.  I 
am  one  of  the  few  persons  who  has  always  dis- 
trusted him.  I  am  only  surprised  that  he  has 
waited  so  long.  You  are  very  much  in  the  way, 
you  know.  Now  I  want  to  think  it  over  a  little 
by  myself.  So  I  am  going  to  send  you  home. 
Euth,  as  it  happens,  is  lunching  here  with  me 
to-morrow.  If  you  were  to  come  around  about 
two  you  can  talk  to  her  without  being  inter- 
rupted." 

tf  Jennie,  you're  the  best  friend  in  the  world. 


212  LIFE 

I'll  never  forget  what  you're  doing  for  me  as 
long  as  I  live!  " 

"No,"  said  Jennie,  "  I  don't  think  you're  the 
kind  that  will, ' '  and  she  smiled  up  at  him  with 
her  frank,  boyish  smile. 

* '  I  think  it  would  be  wiser  to  let  me  tell  Ruth 
the  whole  story  before  you  come,"  she  said  as 
they  stood  at  the  door.  "  You  see  I'm  sure  her 
father  will  put  off  saying  anything  as  long  as 
possible.  Poor  soul !  He  will  dread  so  to  give 
her  pain.  And  the  more  quickly  you  act,  the 
better.  And  if  she  knows  all  about  it  before  you 
come,  there  is  so  much  gained. ' ' 

' '  I  leave  it  entirely  to  you.  There  is  no  onei 
in  whose  judgment  I  have  more  confidence,  be- 
lieve me." 

Euth  was  alone  in  the  same  little  room  when 
he  came  next  day.  She  had  utterly  given  way 
when  she  first  saw  him  and  had  broken  down  and 
cried  with  her  head  on  his  shoulder,  his  strong 
arms  about  her.  But  after  a  few  minutes  she 
had  regained  her  self-control. 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  make  such  a  little  fool  of 
myself.  But  don 't  think  I  am  crying  from  any- 
thing but  pure  rage.  You  ought  to  have  seen 
me  when  Jennie  told  me!  I  nearly  frightened 
her,  and  she's  known  me  and  my  temper  for 
years.  To  think  that  it  is  Tom  that  accuses 
you!  Ralph  doesn't  count.  He  thinks  whatever 
Tom  thinks.  I  wouldn't  have  believed  it  of  him. 
And  then  his  telling  our  secret  to  father.  Of 
course  he  knew  it  was  a  secret.  He  couldn't 


LIFE  213 

help  knowing  it.  Now  there's  only  one  thing 
to  be  done.  Jennie  agrees  with  me,  and  she's 
the  wisest  woman  I  know.  I  don't  want  to  tell 
you  until  I  have  all  the  plan  arranged  in  my 
mind.  I'll  write  you  to-night.  And  you  must 
do  exactly  as  I  tell  you.  Everything  depends 
upon  it.  And  father  will  be  the  first  to  acknowl- 
edge that  he  has  been  unjust.  Poor  man !  He 
was  so  unhappy  last  night.  But  even  I  couldn't 
get  a  thing  out  of  him. 

"  I  must  go  now.  I  have  an  engagement  I 
simply  must  keep.  You'll  have  my  letter  the 
first  thing  in  the  morning.  Promise  me  that 
you'll  do  exactly  as  I  tell  you." 

"  But  why  all  this  mystery!  " 

"  Oh,  never  mind  that.  One  would  think  you 
didn't  trust  me.  But  you  promise?  " 

"  Surely,  sweetheart." 

For  a  short  moment  he  held  her  again  in  his 
arms.  Then  he  took  her  out  to  the  waiting 
automobile. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

NEW  YORK  was  in  the  first  throes  of  the 
dance  craze.  Dancing  had  become  more  than 
a  "rage,"  it  was  an  epidemic.  All  the  world 
and  his  wife,  irrespective  of  age  or  size,  danced 
morning,  noon  and  night;  weekdays  and  Sun- 
days. Restaurants  and  cafes  that  had  been  on 
the  point  of  closing  their  doors  for  lack  of 
trade  hired  a  professional  dancer,  or  dancers, 
advertised  their  tango  teas,  and  sat  com- 
placently down  to  gather  in  the  golden  harvest 
with  both  hands. 

Teachers  of  the  new  art  sprang  up  overnight 
on  every  block.  And  still  New  York  danced. 
Physicians  uttered  cautious  words  of  warning 
against  excess.  The  church  fulminated  against 
Sabbath-breaking.  And  still  New  York  danced. 

Presently  the  craze  spread  from  Fifth 
Avenue  and  Broadway  to  the  dance  halls  of  the 
lower  East  Side.  The  underworld  took  it  up, 
and  danced  as  hard  as  their  betters.  It  was 
not  long  before  some  of  the  denizens  of  the 
lowest  of  these  dives  asked  themselves  why 
they  too  should  not  glean  after  the  reapers  fur- 
ther uptown.  Nimble  feet  and  quick  wits  were 
all  that  were  required  in  the  way  of  testi- 
monials. 

It  was  the  afternoon  of  the  day  of  the  long- 

214 


LIFE  215 

heralded  Stuyvesant  Ball  at  which  the  young 
heiress  was  to  make  her  bow  to  society.  For 
weeks  paragraphs  expatiating  on  the  splendor 
of  the  coming  entertainment  went  the  rounds 
of  the  society  columns.  There  were  hints  of  a 
closely  guarded  surprise  to  be  disclosed  only 
on  that  eventful  evening.  This  latter  item  gave 
much  amusement  to  three  people;  that  is  to 
say,  to  Ruth,  to  Jennie  Bruce,  who  was  now 
completely  in  her  confidence,  and  to  Mr.  Wil- 
liam Reid,  late  secretary  to  the  host  of  the  oc- 
casion. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  "surprise"  at  which 
the  papers  hinted  was  a  much  simpler  one  than 
the  real  thing  planned  by  the  conspirators. 
Ruth  had  decided  to  engage  the  dancer  Henri, 
of  the  Cafe  Terpsichore,  to  give  an  exhibition 
with  his  partner  for  the  entertainment  of  her 
guests.  The  only  cloud  on  her  anticipated 
pleasure  was  the  reluctance  of  her  sweetheart 
to  accept  the  invitation  which  he  could  not  help 
but  know  had  been  most  unwillingly  given  by 
her  father. 

Mr.  Stuyvesant  was  still  unconvinced  of 
Reid's  guilt  in  the  matter  of  the  forged  check, 
but  he  was  by  no  means  satisfied  that  Burnett's 
other  charge  was  not  well  founded.  It  was  not 
that,  all  things  being  equal,  he  would  not  have 
welcomed  as  a  son-in-law  this  manly  young  fel- 
low who  had  already  made  himself  respected 
and  liked  by  his  associates,  Ralph  and  Tom 
excepted,  but  that  he  cordially  detested  any- 


216  LIFE 

thing  that  savored  of  the  underhanded.  And 
if  Eeid  had  been  making  love  to  his  daughter 
— and  he  began  to  believe  that  he  had  been — he 
had  not  "  played  the  game  according  to  the 
rules." 

All  of  which  was  very  true,  and  it  must  be 
admitted  that  Mr.  Stuyvesant  was  not  without 
justification.  Only  he  did  not  know  certain  cir- 
cumstances, which  would  have  greatly  modified 
his  judgment. 

So,  although  it  hurt  his  pride,  Eeid  was  to 
be  one  of  the  guests.  Both  Ealph  and  Burnett 
had  been  informed  of  his  coming  by  Euth  her- 
self. And  she  had  given  them  both  to  under- 
stand that,  whatever  ill  feeling  existed  between 
them  and  her  guest  over  business  affairs,  she 
would  personally  resent  any  lack  of  courtesy 
shown  to  him  on  the  night  of  her  ball. 

Greatly  against  her  inclination  Euth  had  con- 
sented to  go  down  to  the  Cafe  Terpsichore  the 
latter  part  of  the  afternoon  to  see  Henri  try 
out  the  dance  he  was  to  do  for  her  that  evening. 
At  the  last  moment  she  would  have  gladly  sent 
word  that  she  could  not  come.  She  could,  with 
perfect  truth,  have  pleaded  fatigue  as  an  excuse. 
She  had  been  under  an  unusual  strain  the  past 
few  days,  what  with  her  worry  over  her  lover's 
troubles,  her  anxiety  about  her  father,  who  did 
not  seem  at  all  himself,  and  a  natural  nervous- 
ness connected  with  her  first  great  entertain- 
ment and  the  effect  that  the  revealing  of  her 
secret  would  have  upon  all  concerned. 


LIFE  217 

But  she  had  arranged  the  day  before  that 
Anna  and  Jennie  Bruce  should  go  down  with 
her  and  that  Bill  should  be  there  to  meet  them. 
In  the  end  it  seemed  less  trouble  to  go  than  to 
change  her  arrangements. 

And  so  it  happened  that,  all  unconsciously, 
she  prepared  the  way  for  the  first  of  that  series 
of  calamities  which  was  to  come  near  to  shatter- 
ing the  happiness  of  her  whole  life ! 

For  Anna  had  happened  to  mention  to  Ralph 
that  she  was  going  with  Ruth  to  see  Henri 
dance.  Ralph,  in  turn,  had  told  Burnett.  And 
Burnett 's  quick  brain  had  seen  in  this  conjunc- 
tion of  circumstances  an  opportunity  to  strike 
his  enemy  too  good  to  be  neglected.  Ralph,  as 
usual,  had  been  his  ready  tool. 

It  was  still  a  little  early  for  the  habitues  of 
the  Cafe  Terpsichore,  although  a  few  tables 
here  and  there  were  already  occupied  by  those 
who  came  to  watch  the  dancing,  when  a  man 
whose  general  appearance  and  manner  sug- 
gested that  he  would  have  been  more  at  home 
in  a  less  pretentious  resort  swaggered  in  and 
seated  himself  at  a  table. 

His  air  was  at  once  furtive  and  defiant.  It 
said  as  plainly  as  words :  you  may  think  I  have 
no  right  here;  well,  I  challenge  you  to  prove 
that  I  have  not.  His  eyes  were  bold  and  keen, 
the  eyes  of  a  man  who  knows  how  to  make 
himself  obeyed  through  fear.  And  yet  he  was 
no  stranger  to  fear  himself.  Always  he  was 
on  his  guard.  His  face  showed  both  humor 


218  LIFE 

and  cunning.  He  was  well  and  strongly  made 
and  Ms  fine  forehead,  surmounted  by  a  shock 
of  curly  hair,  indicated  more  than  average  intel- 
ligence. 

He  was  badly  dressed.  His  clothes  were  not 
exactly  loud  in  pattern  and  not  exactly  ill  cut. 
They  suggested,  rather,  the  provincial  tailor — 
with  ideas!  Every  article  of  his  apparel 
shrieked  of  newness.  His  hat,  his  gloves,  his 
shoes,  his  topcoat,  his  suit — all  had  the  look 
of  never  having  been  worn  before. 

He  had  already  been  seated  at  the  table  some 
minutes  and  still  none  of  the  waiters  showed 
any  sign  of  being  aware  of  his  presence.  He 
showed  his  appreciation  of  their  motives  in  a 
broad  grin.  When  their  impudent  neglect  no 
longer  amused  him,  he  beckoned  the  nearest  with 
an  imperious  gesture. 

"Somethin'  to  drink  and  somethin'  to  eat." 

"Beer  and  sandwiches'?"  questioned  the 
waiter  with  thinly  veiled  contempt. 

"No.    Champagne  and  duck." 

Instantly  the  waiter's  manner  changed.  He 
bustled  and  fussed  over  the  table  for  a  mo- 
ment and  then  hurried  off. 

The  man  drew  a  folded  newspaper  from  his 
pocket  and  with  manifest  amusement  read  and 
reread  a  marked  paragraph.  At  this  moment 
Ealph  and  Tom,  obsequiously  received  by  the 
head  waiter,  were  conducted  to  a  large  table  in 
the  center  of  the  room.  The  man  beckoned  to 
another  waiter. 


LIFE  219 

"I've  heard  out  West  about  these  here 
tango  dances.  They  say  you've  got  the  best 
one  in  town." 

' '  Oh,  yes,  sir.    We  have  Henri. ' ' 

"Trot  him  out.    Show  him  to  me." 

"He  is  not  here  yet.    He  will  come  later." 

"Oh!  I  see  by  this  paper  that  he  dances 
to-night  at  the  Stuyvesant  Ball." 

"Henri  dances  at  all  the  smart  balls,  sir." 

"Well,  when  he  comes  in,  show  him  to  me. 
I  want  to  see  him,  so  that  I  can  tell  the  folks 
at  home." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"I  don't  like  your  scheme,  Tom;  I  don't  see 
what  good  it  will  do,"  Ealph  was  saying. 

"Can't  you  understand?  When  things  are 
coming  your  way,  play  big.  If  we  haven't  con- 
vinced your  father  that  Reid's  a  crook,  at  least 
we've  queered  him.  Now,  kill  him  with  Ruth. 
Have  you  the  invitation  ? ' ' 

"Here."  He  held  out  an  envelope  contain- 
ing the  card. 

"  'Mr.  William  Van  Rennsselaer  Stuyvesant 
requests  the  honor  of  Miss  Muriel  Barresford's 
presence,'  etc.,  etc.,  etc.,"  read  Burnett  in  a  low 
tone.  "Good!  The  'Miss  Muriel  Barresford' 
is  another  example  of  your  penmanship,  I  sup- 
pose." 

Ralph  nodded.  "Copied  it  from  a  note  of 
Reid's.  But  I  don't  see  how  that  is  going  to 
do  the  trick." 

"You  leave  the  details  to  me — and  Grace. 


220  LIFE 

She  hates  him  almost  as  much  as  we  do.  Here 
she  is!" 

Grace  swept  toward  them,  beautifully 
dressed,  as  always.  Her  furs — the  sables  which 
had  been  Ralph's  undoing — were  magnificent. 
She  was  evidently  in  one  of  her  worst  moods. 
Her  face  was  hard,  and  there  was  a  glitter  in 
her  eyes  which  to  those  weatherwise  in  "Miss 
Barresford's"  moods  suggested  the  coming 
storm.  Her  greeting  to  the  two  men  who  rose 
to  receive  her  bordered  on  the  curt. 

Her  appearance  greatly  interested  the  man 
at  the  other  table. 

"Waiter!" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Who's  the  dame?" 

"I  do  not  know,  sir." 

1 '  Some  dame !    Who 's  the  poppa  ? ' ' 

"Poppa,  poppa?    I  do  not  understand,  sir." 

"The  little  guy  that's  eatin'  her  alive  with 
his  eyes." 

"Mr.  Ealph  Stuyvesant,  sir." 

"Oh!    And  the  big  guy  she's  stuck  on?" 

"Mr.  Thomas  Burnett." 

"Well,  I'm  here,"  said  Grace  sullenly. 
"What  more  do  you  want?" 

At  that  moment  a  medium-sized,  dapper 
young  man,  with  a  pale,  puffy  face  and  mean, 
shifting,  ratlike  eyes,  came  into  the  room.  His 
black  hair  was  thick  with  pomade.  His  clothes 
were  in  the  extreme  of  fashion.  He  reeked  of 
perfume. 


LIFE  221 

"Mr.  Stuyvesant,"  he  said,  making  a  low 
bow  to  Ralph. 

"Hello,  Henri.  Burnett,  this  is  Henri,  the 
dancer.  You  dance  at  my  father's  to-night,  I 
believe  I ' ' 

"Yes,  Mr.  Stuyvesant.  Miss  Stuyvesant  is 
my  very  best  pupil. ' ' 

"Good.  Mrs.  Stuyvesant  says  she  is  learn- 
ing." 

"Mrs.  Stuyvesant  is  also  a  fine  dancer." 

He  gave  a  little  side  glance  at  Grace,  and 
then  looked  again  at  Ealph. 

"  Mrs.  Stuyvesant  and  Miss  Stuyvesant  are 
coming  here  to  see  me  try  out  my  new  dance. 
They  should  be  here  shortly. ' ' 

"Yes,  I  know,"  said  Ralph  coldly. 

With  another  bow  Henri  disappeared  through 
a  door  at  the  far  end  of  the  restaurant. 

"The  little  shrimp!"  said  Grace  angrily. 
"He  was  trying  to  warn  you.  You'd  better 
go." 

"I'll  be  up  for  dinner,  dear,"  he  said  as  he 
rose. 

' '  We  '11  dine  early, ' '  she  said  coldly.  < '  I  shall 
want  to  lie  down  for  an  hour  or  two." 

"Where's  the  invitation?"  she  asked 
abruptly,  holding  out  her  hand  to  Burnett,  who 
handed  it  to  her  in  silence. 

"  'The  honor  of  Miss  Muriel  Barresford's 
presence,'  "  she  read  with  a  curling  lip.  "I'll 
honor  them  all  right.  I'll  wake  up  their  party. 
You  should  see  my  gown!" 


222  LIFE 

"Now  listen,"  said  Burnett,  covering  her 
hand  with  his,  "I'm  going.  Reid  is  coming 
here  to  meet  Ruth.  Let  her  find  you  two  hav- 
ing a  confidential  chat.  You  know  what  I 
mean." 

"I  suppose  you  love  me — just  as  much  as 
ever. ' ' 

"Of  course,  my  dear!  You  don't  doubt 
that." 

"No,  I  don't  doubt  that  you  love  me  as  much 
as  ever — since  you  have  never  really  loved  me 
at  all!" 

So!  She  was  in  one  of  her  old  jealous 
moods. 

"I  see.  You're  not  going  to  help  me,  after 
all." 

"Oh,  I'll  help  you — to  the  limit !  But  not  be- 
cause I  believe  you  love  me,  but  because  I  hate 
her.  I  hate  her  for  being  rich,  for  being  charm- 
ing, for  being  good!  For  having  everything  I 
haven't!  For  being  everything  I'm  not!  But 
I  hate  her  most  of  all  because  of  you!  She's 
made  me  suffer.  She  shall  have  her  turn  at 
suffering.  Trust  me ! ' ' 

She  spoke  in  a  tone  of  intense  bitterness. 
Burnett  stood  looking  down  at  her.  For  the 
moment  there  was  not  even  a  trace  of  beauty 
in  her  face.  She  looked  haggard  and  worn, 
even  old.  Then,  with  one  of  those  sudden 
transitions  so  characteristic  of  her,  all  light  and 
color  and  softness  came  back.  Her  eyes  lost 
their  hard  glitter.  Her  lovely  mouth  curved 


LIFE  223 

in  an  enchanting  smile.  She  gave  her  face  a 
little  caressing  pat  with  her  handkerchief. 

"Order  me  a  brandy  and  soda,"  she  said. 
"I  hate  it,  but  it's  in  character.  How  do  I 
look?" 

Burnett  laughed  aloud  in  sheer  relief,  and 
turned  to  give  the  waiter  the  order. 

"I  won't  tell  you,"  he  smiled.  "You  don't 
deserve  it ! " 

As  he  was  going  out  he  met  Henri  return- 
ing. 

"Miss  Barresford,  over  at  the  table  yonder, 
wants  to  speak  to  you,  I  think'." 

"Listen,  Henri,"  said  Grace  imperiously  as 
Henri  took  Ralph's  chair,  "if  you  do  as  I  tell 
you  there 's  a  hundred  dollars  in  your  pocket. ' ' 
And  she  leaned  over  and  began  talking  to  him 
in  so  low  a  tone  that  the  waiter  gave  up  trying 
to  overhear  her. 

The  man  at  the  other  table  had  been  giving 
a  whole-souled  attention  to  his  repast,  which 
did  not  prevent  him,  however,  from  seeing 
everything  that  went  on  about  him. 

"Waiter!"  he  called. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Is  that  your  Henry?" 

"Yes,  sir;  that  is  Monsieur  Henri." 

"Go  over  and  tell  him  I  want  to  see 
him." 

The  waiter  hesitated  a  moment,  but  his  cus- 
tomer gave  him  a  look  that  assisted  him  greatly 
to  make  up  his  mind. 


224  LIFE 

"The  gentleman — over  there — wants  to  see 
you,  Monsieur,"  he  whispered  in  Henri's  ear. 

"Tell  him  I'm  engaged,"  said  Henri  without 
looking  up. 

"Monsieur  Henri  is  engaged,  sir." 

"Go  back  and  tell  him  he'll  be  worse  engaged 
if  he  don't  come,  and  come  quick.  Well?" 

The  waiter  hurried  away. 

"The  gentleman  says  it's  most  urgent." 

"Damn  his  impertinence!  Watch  me  settle 
him,"  swaggered  Henri. 

He  crossed  swiftly  to  the  other  table. 

"Well?" 

"Sit  down,  you  rat!"  The  man  at  the  other 
table  didn't  even  look  up. 

With  a  gasp  of  amazement  and  fear,  Henri 
obeyed. 

1 1  Joe  Schmidt !    Dutch  Joe ! ' ' 

"I  see  you  ain't  forgotten  me,"  said  Joe 
with  a  grin. 

"I  guess  nobody  wise  will  ever  forget  Dutch 
Joe  or  Kid  Wallace.  Guys  like  you  two  ain't 
forgot!" 

"That's  one  thing  I  come  East  for.  Where 
wtheMd!" 

1 '  Dropped  out.    Nobody  knows. ' ' 

"Who  let  you  off  the  Bowery?"  asked  Joe 
after  a  moment. 

"Ain't  this  a  free  country?  Ain't  a  fellow 
got  a  right  to  rise  in  the  world?" 

The  dancer  was  beginning  to  recover  his 
nerve  a  little. 


LIFE  225 

"Huh!  Quitting  pickin'  pockets,  eh? 
Where's  all  the  girls  that  you  used  to  have 
workin'  for  you?" 

"Cut  it,  Dutch,  cut  it!  Somebody  might  hear 
you.  I  reformed. ' ' 

"Dago  Mike  reformed!"  laughed  Joe. 
"That's  a  good  one!" 

"I'm  givin'  it  to  you  straight,"  said  the 
dancer  eagerly.  "You  know  me.  I  was  always 
some  dancer.  Used  to  cop  my  girls  that  way, 
in  the  dance  halls  on  the  East  Side  and  on 
Fourteenth  Street,  and  put  'em  to  work  for  me. 
Nothin'  much  in  it,  and  I  had  to  work  the  Sub- 
way and  the  crosstown  cars  on  the  side.  Too 
hard !  I  got  wise.  Slicked  down  my  hair,  pol- 
ished my  finger  nails  and  moved  uptown.  Oh, 
I  ain't  the  only  one.  Say,  I'll  take  you  to  any 
popular  dansant  place  in  New  York,  and  if  I 
can't  show  you  some  guy  like  me  out  of  the 
East  Side  dance  halls  with  a  prison  record  in 
any  one  of  'em,  I'll  buy  the  swellest  feed  in 
town!" 

He  talked  rapidly  with  a  nervous  eagerness 
which  betrayed  his  deadly  fear  of  the  man  op- 
posite him.  Dutch  Joe  dropped  his  eyes  to  hide 
the  amusement  that  gleamed  in  them.  He  had 
the  catlike  love  of  playing  with  his  victim. 

"So!    You've  quit  the  old  game  for  good?" 

"Sure.  What's  the  use?  Why,  croakin'  a 
guy  in  New  York  was  never  worth  more  than 
fifty  iron  men.  Now,  the  swellest  chicken  on. 
the  Avenoo,  debutant  stuff,  pays  me  twenty- 


226  LIFE 

five  dollars  an  hour  just  to  hug  her.  I  tell  you 
it's  great!  Henri,  the  Tango  King  —  that's 
me!" 

1  'Twenty-five  an  hour!"  exclaimed  Joe  in 
pretended  incredulity.  "Forget  it!" 

"No,  on  the  level.  Why,  I  get  two  hundred 
bucks  to-night  just  for  dancing  at  a  ball.  A 
swell  little  dame,  too,  Miss  Stuyvesant.  Her 
old  man  ain't  nothin'.  Only  the  boss  of  Stuy- 
vesant and  Company.  Got  all  the  money  in  the 
world  this  side  of  Hoboken.  And  the  house 
they  live  in  !  And  the  silver  stuff  in  the  dinin  '- 
room!  And  the  jewels  the  little  dame's 
got!" 

Words  failed  him. 

"Swell,  is  it?" 

'  '  Swell  !    Say,  Bo,  it  's  a  plush-hung  morgue  !  '  ' 

"Yes,"  said  Joe  carelessly,  "I  seen  in  the 
paper  you  was  dancin'  there.  That's  why  I 
come  to  pay  my  respec's  this  afternoon." 

"W-w-what  is  it?"  stammered  the  dancer. 
All  his  fear  had  returned. 

"I  got  a  job  for  you." 

"Nothin'  doin',  Dutch,  nothin'  doin'!  I  teU 
you  I've  quit  all  that." 

Joe  gave  him  a  contemptuous  look. 

"You  meet  me  to-night  at  8:15  in  front  of 
Childs'  on  Fourteenth  Street,"  he  said  sav- 
agely. 

I  -  " 


Joe  bared  his  teeth  in  a  grin.    His  thin  hand, 
with  its  long,  nervous  fingers,  opened  and  closed 


LIFE  227 

with  a  catlike  movement.  He  spoke  in  a  low, 
smooth  tone,  but  to  the  little  wretch  opposite 
him  every  word  was  charged  with  deadly 
meaning. 

* '  Some  stool  tipped  off  the  bulls  on  Kid  Wal- 
lace and  got  him  a  six-year  stretch.  I  never 
was  sure  it  was  you — that's  why  you're  still 
alive.  But  I  guess  if  you  want  to  keep  in  good 
health  you'd  better  be  there.  Make  it  eight 
o'clock,  that'll  be  better.  You  get  me?  " 

"I'll  be  there,"  said  Dago  Mike  in  a  choked 
voice. 

"Here,  you!"  called  Joe,  as  he  rose  briskly 
from  his  chair. 

The  waiter  came  hurrying  forward. 

"This  is  Henry's  party.  He'll  pay  the 
check." 

Henri  nodded  sullenly. 

"Remember,  eight  o'clock,"  he  said  sharply. 
"S'long!" 

As  he  went  out  of  the  cafe  with  his  long 
stride,  he  grinned  impudently  at  Grace  as  he 
passed  her  table,  chuckling  to  himself  at  the 
furious  glance  she  gave  him  in  return. 

"Has  Miss  Stuyvesant  come?"  asked  a  well- 
remembered  voice  back  of  her.  She  sprang 
from  her  chair,  her  face  beaming  a  wel- 
come. 

"Why,  Bill  Reid!"  And  then,  in  pretty  con- 
fusion: "I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Reid.  How 
are  you?  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you!" 

"How— how  are  you?"    His  blank  look  be- 


228  LIFE 

trayed  the  fact  that  he  hadn't  the  remotest  rec- 
ollection of  ever  having  seen  her  before. 

"You  don't  remember  me,  Mr.  Reid?" 

"Sorry  to  be  so  stupid!    But "  j 

"Think  a  minute,"  she  insisted  archly. 
"You  last  saw  me  at  New  Haven." 

"Why,  you're  not " 

"Exactly!  Grace  Andrews.  Won't  you  sit 
down  a  moment?" 

"Thanks,  but  I'm  looking  for  some  friends," 
he  said  stiffly. 

There  could  be  only  one  explanation  of  Tom 
Andrews'  daughter  being  so  richly  dressed. 
He  thought  of  her  honest  old  father  and  mother 
with  a  sudden  pity. 

"There's  no  one  here  yet,"  she  assured  him. 
"I've  just  been  in  the  other  rooms.  Can't  you 
sit  down  just  a  minute?  You  don't  know  how 
you  make  me  think  of — of  home!"  Her  voice 
broke  a  little  on  the  word.  "Oh,  I  know  the 
thought  in  your  mind." 

At  once  his  heart  was  touched.  Heavens! 
Who  was  he  that  he  should  judge  her?  Surely, 
of  all  the  men  in  the  world,  he  was  the  last 
that  should  condemn  anyone  on  appearances! 
He  had  suffered  enough  from  that  sort  of  judg- 
ment himself! 

"Why,  certainly.    I  shall  be  glad  to." 

He  took  the  nearest  chair,  which  happened  to 
place  him  with  his  back  to  the  door. 

She  had  been  chatting  on  aimlessly  to  gain 
time  for  a  minute  or  two,  while  he  listened  with 


LIFE  229 

the  polite  attention  which  he  always  gave  to 
every  woman,  when  she  saw  Ruth,  Anna  and 
Jennie  Bruce  coming  in  with  Tom. 

"Look  at  Mr.  Reid  with  that  perfectly  stun- 
ning woman!  "  exclaimed  Anna.  "Who  is 
she?  " 

That  was  Grace's  cue.  To  Reid's  astonish- 
ment she  suddenly  leaned  across  the  table  and 
seized  his  hand. 

"You've  been  so  dear!" — she  raised  her 
voice  so  that  every  word  could  be  distinctly 
heard  all  over  the  room — "I'm  so  grateful  for 
all  you  have  done  for  me — have  given  me! 
You've  always  been  such  a  true  friend!" 

Had  she  suddenly  lost  her  mind — or  had  he? 

And  then  he  heard  Burnett's  voice  say: 

"Who  is  she?  Why,  she's  one  of  the  most 
notorious  women  in  New  York!" 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  in  confusion  and  amaze- 
ment, to  meet  Ruth's  blazing  eyes. 

'.'Ruth!  Ruth,  my  darling!  It's  all  some 
hideous  mistake!" 

But  with  her  head  proudly  high,  without  so 
much  as  a  glance  in  his  direction,  Ruth  swept 
out  of  the  door,  followed  by  her  friends. 


CHAPTER  XV 

IT  was  nearly  midnight.  Ontside  the  Stuy- 
vesant  house,  blazing  with  light,  Dutch  Joe,  clad 
in  a  pair  of  black  dress  trousers,  a  sweater 
under  a  shabby  brown  coat  and  a  greasy  old  cap 
well  pulled  down  over  his  eyes,  stamped  his  feet 
and  cursed  under  his  breath.  From  time  to 
time  he  shifted  a  small  parcel  which  he  carried 
from  one  arm  to  the  other  in  order  to  rub  his 
cold  hands.  For  professional  reasons  he  was 
not  wearing  his  overcoat,  not  wishing  to  be  en- 
cumbered with  any  useless  clothing. 

He  had  already  been  there  some  time,  vary- 
ing the  monotony  of  his  vigil  with  strolls  around 
the  block  whenever  a  watchman  or  a  policeman 
appeared  in  the  distance. 

"I  wish  the  hell  I  knew  what  time  it  was! 
Careless  of  me  to  leave  me  diamond-studded 
watch  on  the  piany.  It  can't  be  that  that 

damned  little  skunk No  fear!  I  put  the 

fear  of  God  too  well  in  his  heart,  down  there 
in  front  of  ChildsV 

From  which  muttered  observation  it  was  to 
be  inferred  that  "Monsieur  Henri"  had  been 
faithful  to  his  appointment. 

Inside  the  house  they  had  just  finished  doing 
the  "Paul  Jones."  Ruth,  quite  breathless,  was 
fanning  herself,  in  one  of  the  great  windows  of 

230 


LIFE  231 

the  library — the  whole  lower  floor,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  dining-room,  had  been  turned  into 
one  huge  ballroom — when  Jennie  Bruce,  sup- 
porting herself,  figuratively  speaking,  on  the 
arm  of  little  Jimmie  Jones,  joined  her  and  her 
partner. 

1 1  Having  a  good  time,  Jennie  ? ' ' 

"Gorgeous!  I've  lost  seven  ounces.  I 
weighed  myself  in  your  bathroom,  half  an  hour 
ago.  If  I  don't  eat  any  supper  I'll  go  home 
a  pound  lighter. ' ' 

"But  you're  going  to  eat  supper." 

"Yes,  I  know  I  am." 

"How  are  you,  Jimmy f" 

"G-g-g-great!" 

"Yes,  he's  having  a  good  time,"  confirmed 
Jennie.  "Only  his  mind  is  on  his  feet,  and  he 
can't  talk." 

' '  'Tis — 'tis — 'tisn't  my  m-m-mind  on  m-m-my 
f-feet  that  hurts.  You  s-s-stepped  on  them." 

On  the  other  side  of  the  room  Ralph  and  Bur- 
nett met  for  the  first  time  during  the  evening. 

"What  did  she  do  this  afternoon?"  asked 
Ralph  hurriedly. 

"She  was  furious!  Haven't  you  noticed  she 
hasn't  danced  with  him  once?" 

"Good!" 

"Beg  pardon,  Miss  Stuyvesant,"  said  a 
servant  at  Ruth's  elbow,  "but  Monsieur  Henri, 
the  dancer,  would  like  to  speak  with  you." 

"Where  is  he?" 

"He  is  waiting,  Miss,  at  the  door.    He  didn't 


232  LIFE 

want  to  go  to  the  cloakroom  until  he  had  seen 
you." 

* '  Say  that  I  will  be  with  him  in  a  minute. ' ' 

"I  have  to  run  away,'*  she  explained  to 
Jennie.  "  Henri  has  just  come.  He  wants  to 
see  me  about  something.  No  doubt  the  floor  is 
not  properly  waxed.  These  dancers  are  so 
spoiled!" 

She  found  Henri  still  bundled  up  in  a  won- 
derful fur  coat,  his  hat  crushed  under  his 
arm.  As  she  looked  at  him,  she  thought  she  had 
never  seen  him  so  pasty  and  unhealthy  look- 
ing. 

He  explained,  with  many  protestations  of 
grief  over  having  to  disappoint  her,  that  his 
partner  had  met  with  a  sudden  accident  which 
would  render  it  out  of  the  question  to  give  the 
dance  he  had  composed  in  her  honor.  Of 
course,  he  himself  was  entirely  at  her  service, 
but  at  this  hour  it  would  be  impossible  to  find 
another  professional  disengaged.  If  Miss  Stuy- 
vesant  herself,  or  if  any  of  her  guests,  would 
so  far  honor  him • 

"Why,"  said  Ruth  thoughtfully,  "I  think  it 
might  be  managed.  I'm  very  sorry  about  your 
partner.  She's  such  a  pretty  little  thing.  If 
you  will  come  into  the  ballroom  as  soon  as  you 
are  ready,  I  will  see  what  I  can  do. ' ' 

For  a  moment  it  seemed  as  if  Henri  hesi- 
tated. And  then  through  an  open  window,  loud 
enough  to  be  heard  above  the  orchestra,  came 
an  automobile  horn. 


LIFE  233 

1  'Toot,  toot,  toot!  Toot,  toot!  Toot,  toot, 
toot!  Toot,  toot!" 

1  *  What  can  that  chauffeur  be  doing!"  laughed 
Ruth.  "It  sounds  almost  like  a  signal." 

She  glanced  smilingly  at  Henri.  He  was  com- 
pletely transformed.  His  face,  just  now  so 
heavy,  almost  sullen,  was  wreathed  in  smiles. 
His  dull  little  eyes  sparkled  with  pleasure. 

"Certainly,  Miss  Stuyvesant.  I  will  not  de- 
tain you  a  moment.  With  your  permission,  I 
will  go  and  take  off  my  things."  And  with  a 
hasty  bow  he  almost  ran  toward  the  dressing- 
room. 

As  Euth  came  back  to  the  ballroom,  Reid  came 
over  to  her. 

"May  I  have  the  next  dance,  Ruth?" 

She  looked  at  him  without  replying. 

"Ruth,"  he  went  on  in  a  low  voice,  "you, 
above  all  others,  must  not  misjudge  me.  I  will 
explain  everything  if  you  will  only  give  me  a 
moment. ' ' 

"What  is  there  to  explain!  You  were  with 
that  woman." 

'  *  She  asked  me  to  sit  down  for  a  moment.  I 
did  so,  because  I  was  so  surprised  at  seeing  her. 
I  don't  wonder  you  didn't  recognize  her.  I 
didn't  myself.  She  had  to  tell  me  who  she  was. 
And  when  she  began  that  tirade " 

"I  am  ready  whenever  Miss  Stuyvesant  is," 
said  Henri's  voice  at  his  side. 

"One  moment,  Henri.  I  will  let  you  know," 
said  Ruth  sharply. 


234  LIFE 

"I  recognize  her!  I  never  saw  her  before  in 
my  life,  surely.  Who  is  she,  then!" 

"Yes,  you  saw  her  and  talked  with  her  once 
that  I  know  of.  Since  this  afternoon  I've  found 
out  that  she  now  calls  herself " 

"Miss  Muriel  Barresford,"  announced  the 
butler. 

"Good  God!"  said  Eeid  sharply.  His  face 
became  crimson  and  then  the  color  faded  out, 
leaving  him  deathly  white. 

"This  is  beyond  endurance!  "  said  Euth  in 
a  low  tone. 

For  the  moment  all  the  light  laughter  and  the 
sound  of  gay  voices  stopped.  As  it  chanced, 
the  orchestra,  too,  was  silent.  From  across  the 
great  room  Ruth  could  see  her  father  wearing 
a  puzzled  frown.  Grace,  alone  of  all  that  com- 
pany, was  perfectly  self-possessed. 

She  advanced  slowly  into  the  room  with  the 
soft  glide  of  a  panther.  For  a  moment  she 
stood  quite  still,  a  smile,  faintly  mocking,  just 
touching  her  too  crimson  lips.  Her  wonderful 
eyes,  to-night  heavily  penciled,  had  a  look  of 
almost  childish  inquiry,  as  if  she  were  wonder- 
ing that  no  one  came  forward  to  greet  her. 
Even  Burnett  was  stirred.  His  eyes  glittered 
and  he  drew  a  deep  breath.  "With  a  groan  Ralph 
Stuyvesant  drew  back  into  the  embrasure  of  the 
window,  where  behind  the  heavy  velvet  cur- 
tains he  mopped  great  beads  of  sweat  from  his 
forehead.  Never  had  she  been  so  transcend- 
ently  beautiful.  But  it  was  the  beauty  of  the 


LIFE  235 

damned.  She  might  have  posed  as  Evil  In- 
carnate. 

Her  body  was  draped  in  some  gossamery 
tissue  of  crimson  and  gold  that  showed  every 
curve  and  line  of  her  perfect  figure  and  em- 
phasized the  warm  whiteness  of  her  naked  arms, 
and  neck  and  breast.  Through  the  strands  of 
her  dusky  hair  she  had  braided  the  rope  of 
pearls  Ralph  had  given  her.  She  wore  no  jewels 
on  her  hands  and  arms ;  but  beneath  the  skirt  of 
her  robe  one  could  see  her  sandaled  feet  loaded 
with  rings. 

Simultaneously  Ruth  and  her  father  made  a 
step  forward.  But  Henri  was  too  quick  for 
them.  He  darted  to  Grace's  side,  and  made 
her  a  sweeping  bow. 

"Mademoiselle,  Miss  Stuyvesant  has  in- 
structed me  to  choose  a  partner  for  my  exhibi- 
tion dance.  Will  you  do  me  the  honor?"  His 
voice  was  shrill  with  excitement. 

"But,  surely " 

"Let  them  dance  it  out,"  said  Reid  in  Ruth's 
ear.  ' '  Then  we  '11  get  her  out  quietly.  No  one  '11 
know  that  she  wasn't  paid  to  come." 

At  a  signal  from  Henri  the  orchestra  struck 
up,  and  the  dance  began.  Nothing  to  compare 
with  it  had  ever  been  seen,  even  on  the  stage, 
in  New  York.  For  a  long  time,  unknown  to 
both  Burnett  and  Ralph,  Grace  had  been  taking 
lessons  from  Henri.  But  to-night  it  was  she 
who  was  the  teacher  and  Henri  the  pupil.  Had 
she  not  completely  dominated  him,  he  would 


236  LIFE 

never  have  dared  go  to  such  extremes  of  atu 
dacity.  At  length,  after  one  particularly  las- 
civious posture,  Mr.  Stuyvesant's  voice  rang 
out: 

* '  One  moment,  please. ' ' 

The  dancers  paused. 

1  'I  think  this  dance  has  gone  far  enough." 

"Certainly,  Mr.  Stuyvesant,  as  you  wish,'' 
said  Henri  humbly.  And  he  added:  "I  am 
sorry." 

But  Grace  was  not  so  easily  cowed. 

"Oh,  if  you  are  shocked  at  anything  so 
mild " 

"You  and  your  partner  will  leave  quietly,  and 
at  once."  Mr.  Stuyvesant  continued  to  address 
himself  to  Henri. 

"She's  not  my  partner,  Mr.  Stuyvesant;  I'm 
only  a  professional.  You  shouldn't  blame  me 
for  what  a  lady  makes  me  do,"  whined  Henri. 

"A  lady!" 

"I  am  Miss  Barresford,  Mr.  Stuyvesant, 
one  of  your  daughter's  guests,"  said  Grace 
haughtily. 

"Father,"  said  Euth,  coming  forward  to  his 
side,  "there  is  evidently  some  mistake.  Miss 
Barresford 's  name  was  not  on  the  list  of  those 
to  be  invited." 

As  she  met  Grace's  eye,  the  thought  shot 
through  her  mind:  "He  is  right,  he  is  right!  I 
have  seen  this  woman  before.  But  where — and 
when?" 

"In  that  case,  Miss  Barresford,  I  must  ask 


LIFE  237 

you  to  leave  my  house  at  once,"  said  Mr.  Stuy- 
vesant  coldly. 

Grace  drew  herself  up  to  her  full  height. 

"Certainly,  Mr.  Stuyvesant.  I  do  not  care  to 
stay  where  I  am  not  wanted.  But  I  most  cer- 
tainly refuse  to  be  put  in  the  position  of  one 
who  has  forced  herself  into  your  house. ' ' 

From  her  breast  she  drew  the  card  she  had 
received  from  Burnett.  "Here  is  my  invita- 
tion. It  was  handed  to  me  by  Mr.  William  Reid. 
He  is  a  dear  friend  of  mine,  as  well  as  of  your 
daughter's." 

Mechanically  he  took  the  card  from  her  hand 
and  scrutinized  it  carefully  through  his  glasses. 
There  was  a  moment  of  intense  silence,  broken 
only  by  the  snapping  of  the  sticks  of  Ruth's  fan. 

"Mr.  Reid  gave  you  this?" 

"Yes,  this  afternoon." 

"^hat  statement  is  absolutely  false,"  said 
Reid,  coming  forward. 

"Yes?"  Grace  gave  a  little  mocking  laugh. 
"I  appeal  to  Miss  Stuyvesant.  She  saw  us  to- 
gether this  afternoon.  When  Mr.  Reid  gave  me 
the  invitation,  I  naturally  presumed  that  it  came 
from  her. ' ' 

"Call  Miss  Barresford's  car,"  said  Mr.  Stuy- 
vesant, turning  to  a  servant  who  stood  near. 

' '  Very  well !  It  required  considerable  urging 
to  induce  me  to  come  to  such  a  dull  party;  I 
shall  leave  without  regret.  Good  night. ' '  And, 
with  a  slight  inclination  of  the  head,  she  swept 
from  the  room. 


238  LIFE 

"Mr.  Stuyvesant,  I  can  only  give  yon  my 
word  of  honor  that  I  had  nothing  to  do  with 
that  woman's  coming  here." 

"And  yet,  the  name  is  in  yonr  writing.  I 
prefer  to  say  'good  night'  to  you  also,  Mr. 
Eeid." 

"Father " 

"One  moment,  Ruth." 

Reid  came  closer  to  the  old  gentleman,  and 
spoke  so  low  that  not  even  Ruth  could  hear  what 
he  said. 

"Find  who  wrote  Miss  Barresford's  name  on 
that  card,  and  you  will  know  who  wrote  your 
name  on  that  check." 

' '  That  may  be.    But  until  I  do " 

"Father,  I  believe  Mr.  Reid  absolutely.  To- 
night is  my  night.  This  is  my  ball.  He  is  my 
guest.  I  do  not  wish  him  to  go. " 

"Supper  is  served,  Miss  Stuyvesant,"  an- 
nounced the  butler. 

Immediately  the  constraint  which  had  rested 
on  all  of  the  guests  from  the  time  of  Grace's 
sensational  arrival  until  her  departure  van- 
ished. Once  more  they  broke  up  into  little 
chattering  groups,  slowly  moving  toward  the 
supper-room. 

"Won't  you  take  me  in  to  supper,  Will!" 
asked  Ruth,  her  hand  on  Reid's  arm.  "Father, 
won't  you  come  in  with  us?  " 

"Not  for  a  moment,  my  dear;  I  have  some- 
thing I  want  to  attend  to  first." 

Mr.  Stuyvesant  waited  until  the  big  room  was 


LIFE  239 

empty — he  was  still  in  the  library,  where 
Grace's  indecent  dance  had  taken  place — and  he 
was  quite  alone.  Then  he  beckoned  to  one  of 
the  footmen. 

"Where  is  Mr.  Burnett?" 

"He's  at  supper,  sir." 

"Tell  him  I  wish  to  see  him  in  my  study  at 
once." 

"Your  study  is  being  used  as  a  coatroom, 
you  know,  sir. ' ' 

"So  it  is.  I  forgot  for  the  moment.  Then 
close  those  doors  and  have  Mr.  Burnett  come 
here." 

"Yes,  sir." 

The  man  started  to  close  the  big  folding 
doors,  pulling  the  heavy  curtains  over  them  at 
the  same  time.  Mr.  Stuyvesant  stopped  sud- 
denly in  his  walk. 

"One  moment.  Have  Mr.  Burnett  wait  for 
me  here  until  I  have  finished  at  the  telephone." 

"Very  good,  sir." 

He  left  the  room  by  one  of  the  side  doors  and 
was  followed  after  a  moment  by  the  footman, 
who  had  hardly  disappeared  before  Henri  came 
sneaking  in,  closing  the  door  stealthily  behind 
him.  A  swift  glance  around  assured  him  that 
the  room  was  empty.  Keeping  his  eyes  toward 
the  double  doors,  he  backed  swiftly  to  one  of 
the  windows  that  gave  on  a  side  street,  and 
opening  it,  gave  a  signal  with  his  handkerchief. 
Without  looking  to  see  if  his  signal  was  ob- 
served, leaving  the  window  still  open,  he  began 


240  LIFE 

the  steps  of  an  intricate  dance,  whistling  softly 
to  himself. 

He  kept  on  without  losing  a  beat,  contenting 
himself  with  a  curt  nod  by  way  of  salutation 
when  Dutch  Joe,  still  carefully  carrying  his 
bundle  under  his  arm,  stepped  in  at  the  window, 
closing  it  cautiously  behind  him. 

"You  took  your  time,"  snarled  Joe.  "I'm 
'most  froze!" 

"Cheese,  Joe,  for  God's  sake!" 

1 '  Ah,  shut  up !  You  make  me  tired.  You  ain  't 
got  nothin'  to  lose.  "What  you  think  you  are — 
a  damned  top ! ' ' 

Henri  went  on  with  his  dance.  But  he  had 
stopped  his  whistling. 

"Got  your  waiter's  outfit?" 

"Sure." 

Going  over  to  the  fireplace,  Joe  ripped  the 
paper  from  his  bundle  and  threw  it  into  the 
grate,  and  laid  a  coat  and  waistcoat,  with  a 
dicky  and  collar  on  a  chair. 

"Where's  the  safe?" 

"The  wall  safe,  where  they  keep  the  jewels 
and  stuff,  is  in  the  old  guy's  room  on  the  next 
floor.  Right,  front." 

"Good!  That's  where  I  want  to  get.  Now, 
duck,  and  see  if  the  way's  clear  while  I  get  into 
these  duds." 

"Very  well.  Let  him  know  that  I'm  wait- 
ing," came  Mr.  Stuyvesant's  voice  from  the 
next  room. 

With  a  swift  movement,  Dutch  Joe  gathered 


LIFE  241 

up  his  belongings  and  made  for  the  embrasure 
of  the  window,  closing  the  curtains  behind  him. 
Henri  went  on  with  his  dance. 

"What  are  you  doing  here!"  demanded  Mr. 
Stuyvesant. 

I  i  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir.    I  saw  that  the  room 
was   empty  and  I  was  just  practicing  some 
steps." 

With  a  bow  he  left  the  room,  closing  the  door 
behind  him. 

Mr.  Stuyvesant  was  too  excited  and  angry  to 
recall  that  he  had  ordered  the  dancer  to  leave 
the  house.  Taking  a  paper  from  his  pocket,  he 
put  it  on  the  mantelshelf  and  began  to  pace 
restlessly  up  and  down  the  room,  occasionally 
glancing  impatiently  at  the  door.  After  a  mo- 
ment or  two  he  picked  up  the  paper  again  and 
restored  it  to  his  pocket,  just  as  Burnett  came 
in  through  the  folcting  doors. 

"You  wished  to  see  me,  sir?" 

For  a  second  Mr.  Stuyvesant  was  incapable 
of  speech.  His  face  became  scarlet.  He  ad- 
vanced to  Burnett  with  clenched  fist,  his  mouth 
working  painfully. 

"You — you  damned  thief!  What  have  you 
done  with  the  two  million  dollars  you  stole  from 
Stuyvesant  and  Company1?" 

' '  Stolen  1  Are  you  mad  !  Oh,  I  won 't  talk  to 
you!"  said  Burnett  contemptuously. 

I 1  You  won 't !   Then  you  '11  talk  to  Bull  Ander- 
son.    He's  on  his  way  here  now  to  get  you. 
You're  a  defaulter  and  a  thief.    You've  robbed 


242  LIFE 

me.  Looted  my  bank  of  two  million  dollars,  and 
by  God!  you're  going  to  pay  for  it!" 

"On  what  do  you  base  such  ridiculous 
charges?" 

"On  this  1"  He  held  out  the  paper  which  he 
took  from  his  pocket.  "On  this  record  in  your 
own  writing  which  I  found  this  afternoon  by 
forcing  open  your  desk,  after  I  found  that  se- 
curities were  missing  from  the  vault.  While 
this  dance  has  been  going  on,  I  have  been  going 
over  this  list  in  my  room.  I  had  intended  wait- 
ing to  arrest  you  until  to-morrow,  but  Ander- 
son won't  hear  of  it." 

"All  right,"  said  Burnett  coolly.  "You  have 
me." 

"Then  you  don't  deny  it." 

"Certainly  not.  But  you'd  better  call  in 
Ralph,  so  that  he  can  have  time  to  pack  his  bag 
to  take  that  little  trip  to  the  Tombs  with  me." 

"What!" 

"  He 's  in  just  as  deep  as  I  am.  A  little  deeper, 
I  should  say.  I  haven't  forged  any  checks!" 

"Good  God!  My  boy,  too.  Then  he's  lied  to 
me." 

"Of  course  he  has.  Looks  different,  doesn't 
it?"  asked  Burnett  with  a  sneer. 

"No!" 

He  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height  and 
looked  Burnett  squarely  in  the  face,  with  a  sort 
of  noble  dignity.  For  a  moment  the  younger 
man  paid  him  the  tribute  of  real  admiration. 

"You  know  what  Stuyvesant  and  Company 


LIFE  243 

has  always  stood  for.  It's  the  one  big  bank  in 
New  York  that  has  always  taken  any  account, 
however  small.  Thousands  of  our  depositors 
are  laborers,  clerks,  widows  and  working  girls. 
They've  come  to  us  because  our  name  stood  for 
strength  and  honesty.  And  my  name  is  going 
to  stand  for  that  to  the  end.  To  protect  these 
poor  people  I'll  beggar  myself  to  the  last  dollar 
I  have  in  the  world.  Not  one  of  them  shall 
lose  a  penny.  And  I'll  send  you  away,  and  my 
son  away,  too." 

1 1  Then  you  're  a  fool !   No  banker  is  like  that. ' ' 

"Every  banker  ought  to  be  like  that !" 

"Now  listen  to  me  a  minute,  Mr.  Stuyvesant. 
It  won't  wreck  you  if  it  doesn't  get  out.  Just 
keep  quiet.  Everything  will  go  on  just  the  same. 
Your  name  will  be  saved.  But  if  you  disgrace 

Ralph  and  me Eemember  he's  your  son 

and  I'm  considered  as  good  as  your  son-in-law." 

"What !  You  have  the  effrontery  to  speak  of 
marrying  my  daughter!" 

"I  love  her." 

"You !" 

"Give  me  that  paper.  We'll  burn  it  there  in 
the  fire." 

"  No !    You  're  going  to  jail,  I  tell  you. ' ' 

"And  I  tell  you,  by  God,  I'm  not !  I'm  going 
to  destroy  that  paper.  Damn  you,  give  it  to 
me!" 

With  a  spring  he  had  the  banker  by  the 
throat,  while  with  his  disengaged  hand  he  tried 
to  snatch  the  incriminating  paper.  But  Mr. 


244  LIFE 

Stuyvesant  had  been  too  powerful  a  man  in  his 
day  not  to  have  considerable  strength  left.  Still 
clutching  the  paper  firmly,  he  struggled  to  free' 
himself  from  Burnett's  grasp.  Not  a  sound 
was  uttered  by  either  of  them.  From  the  hall 
outside  could  be  heard  the  music  of  the  band 
playing  an  air  from  a  popular  comic  opera,  and 
the  sound  of  singing  from  the  supper-room.  To 
and  fro,  to  and  fro  they  swayed  with  a  grotesque 
effect  of  keeping  time  to  the  music. 

At  length  the  banker  abandoned  the  attempt 
to  free  himself  from  his  enemy's  clutch.  With 
his  free  hand  he  reached  for  his  pocket  and 
pulled  out  a  pistol.  By  this  time  the  struggle 
had  carried  them  over  near  the  window  behind 
which  Joe  was  still  concealed. 

"Oh,  you  would,  would  you!" 

Burnett  tightened  the  hold  on  his  throat  and 
made  a  grab  to  get  possession  of  the  pistol. 
Mr.  Stuyvesant  made  one  last  supreme  effort 
to  wrench  himself  free,  fighting  all  the  time  to 
raise  his  pistol  hand,  while  Burnett,  who  held 
him  firmly  by  the  wrist,  was  straining  every 
effort  to  keep  it  down.  Suddenly  the  pistol 
went  off. 

With  a  muffled  cry,  Burnett  instantly  let  go 
his  hold.  Mr.  Stuyvesant  stood  swaying  on  his 
feet  for  a  moment.  Then,  with  a  groan,  he 
crumpled  up  on  the  floor. 

Burnett  stood  still,  listening,  while  the  or- 
chestra played  on. 

"Thank  God,  they  didn't  hear  it!" 


LIFE  245 

He  bent  swiftly  over  the  body,  his  head  on 
the  fallen  man's  chest,  listening  for  the  beating 
of  his  heart.  He  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"Dead!  Good  God!  I  didn't  mean  to.  Good 
God!" 

Listening  again  to  assure  himself  that  no  one 
was  coming,  he  half  carried,  half  dragged  the 
body  over  to  a  large  armchair  which  he  wheeled 
in  front  of  the  fire.  Then  he  went  back  and 
got  the  pistol,  which  he  laid  on  the  floor  beside 
the  chair,  so  that  it  might  look  as  if  it  had 
dropped  from  the  dead  man's  hand.  Yes,  that 
was  a  good  idea.  To  have  it  look  as  if  it  had 
dropped  from  his  hand.  His  hand !  Good  God, 
the  paper! 

He  rushed  round  to  the  other  side  of  the  big 
chair.  But  it  wasn't  in  the  other  hand.  He 
tried  to  think.  Which  hand  had  it  been  in  while 
they  were  wrestling  over  there.  Yes,  it  had 
been  in  the  right  hand.  The  dead  man  must 
have  managed  somehow  to  return  it  to  his 
pocket. 

Had  he  looked  over  at  the  window  now  he 
would  have  seen  a  long,  thin  hand  dart  out  from 
behind  the  curtain  and  seize  upon  the  crumpled 
paper  which  Mr.  Stuyvesant  had  dropped  as  he 
fell. 

He  was  in  the  midst  of  searching  the  dead 
man's  pockets  when  Dutch  Joe,  making  a  long 
arm,  put  his  finger  on  the  electric  button  and 
turned  out  the  lights.  Only  the  glow  from  the 
fire  relieved  the  darkness  of  the  room.  This 


246  LIFE 

was  too  much  for  even  Burnett's  iron  nerves. 
He  gave  a  sort  of  sobbing  cry,  and  backed  away 
from  the  dead  man,  lounging  limply  in  the  big 
chair.  For  a  moment  he  leaned  against  the 
wall,  shaking  from  head  to  foot.  Suddenly  his 
rolling  eye  caught  sight  of  the  bellying  curtain 
still  partly  drawn  in  front  of  the  window,  which 
Joe  had  not  taken  the  time  to  close  in  his  hur- 
ried exit. 

"My  God!    Who's  there?" 

He  rushed  over  to  the  open  window.  But  all 
he  saw  was  the  figure  of  a  man  scurrying  across 
the  street,  stooping  as  he  ran. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

As  he  stood  there,  fairly  petrified  with  terror, 
the  folding  doors  were  opened  and  Reid's  big 
figure  stood  at  the  entrance,  standing  out  clearly 
against  the  background  of  the  brilliantly  lighted 
rooms.  Surprised  at  the  darkness,  he  stood 
hesitating  a  moment  until  his  eye  happened  to 
fall  on  the  figure  of  the  dead  man  in  the  chair 
which  was  partly  turned  toward  him. 

"Mr.  Stuyvesant?" 

Receiving  no  answer,  he  came  slowly  into  the 
room  down  toward  the  fireplace. 

"Mr.  Stuyvesant?"  he  said  again.  "Poor 
old  fellow!  He  must  have  fallen  asleep." 

As  he  leaned  over  and  laid  his  hand  gently  on 
Mr.  Stuyvesant's  shoulder,  Burnett,  sneaking 
along  the  wall,  gained  the  open  door — and 
safety. 

' '  Mr.  Stuyvesant ! ' '  As  he  gave  him  a  gentle 
little  shake,  the  body  lurched  forward. 

"Mr.  Stuyvesant!    What's  the  matter?" 

Suddenly  he  started  back.    ' '  Oh,  my  God ! ' ' 

He  rushed  across  the  room.  As  he  reached 
the  door  he  met  Burnett,  just  coming  in. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Burnett  coolly. 

' l  Why  —  why  —  I  —  Mr.  Stuyvesant  —  over 
there." 

247 


248  LIFE 

"What's  the  matter  with  him!  Why  are  you 
so  excited?" 

"I — found  him — over  there — dead ! ' ' 

"Dead!    Great  God!" 

Switching  on  the  light,  Burnett  took  one  look 
at  the  body,  and  then  turned  on  Reid. 

"How  long  were  you  here?  Help!  Help 
here!" 

"Get  help,"  he  said  excitedly  to  the  footman 
who  came  hurrying  in.  "Something  has  hap- 
pened to  Mr.  Stuyvesant.  Get  a  doctor!" 

From  the  other  rooms  came  the  sound  of 
hurrying  feet  and  a  confused  murmur  of  voices. 
One  of  the  footmen  threw  open  the  doors,  and 
in  a  crowd  the  guests  came  surging  in.  Al- 
ready some  of  the  women  had  begun  to  cry 
hysterically. 

"I  found  him  here "  began  Reid. 

"You  just  found  him  here?" 

"Yes,  the  butler  told  me  he  was  here  in  this 
room." 

"And  you  found  him  dead?" 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"I  mean " 

"Father!  father!"  came  Ruth's  voice.  She 
came  rushing  in,  putting  the  people  aside  who 
tried  to  keep  her  back.  She  dropped  on  her 
knees  beside  the  big  chair. 

"Father!    Speak  to  me!    Speak  to  me!" 

"A  doctor!  For  God's  sake  get  a  doctor!" 
she  cried,  turning  to  Reid. 

"I  have  a  doctor.    And  let  no  one  leave  this 


LIFE  249 

house,"  came  a  big  bullying  voice  from  the  hall- 
way. 

It  was  "Bull"  Anderson,  the  detective.  He 
came  into  the  room,  a  strangely  incongruous 
figure  in  contrast  to  the  brilliantly  dressed 
women  and  the  well-groomed  men.  He  wore 
his  hat  pulled  over  his  eyes  and  his  coat  collar 
was  turned  up.  With  him  was  a  quiet-looking 
man  with  a  capable  face,  carrying  a  small  black 
bag.  Without  losing  a  minute,  he  crossed  over 
to  the  chair  by  the  fire  and  began  to  examine 
the  body  with  the  authoritative  air  of  one  who 
perfectly  understood  his  business. 

For  a  moment  Euth  raised  her  head  and 
looked  at  him,  and  then  let  it  fall  once  more 
on  her  arms  outstretched  on  the  arm  of  the 
chair. 

'  *  Thank  God  it's  you,  Anderson.  In  my  opin- 
ion, Mr.  Stuyvesant  has  been  murdered. ' ' 

"Murdered!"  Anderson,  too,  bent  over  the 
body. 

"Shot  dead,"  said  the  doctor  briefly.  "He 
couldn't  by  any  possibility  have  done  it  him- 
self." 

Anderson  turned  sharply  to  two  detectives 
who  had  followed  him  in. 

"John,  the  window.  Mike,  the  servants. 
Bring  them  in  here.  Bring  everybody  in  here. 
Watch  those  doors.  Put  a  man  at  the  front 
door.  And  you, ' '  he  said,  turning  to  the  Sutler, 
"you  watch  that  door  over  there.  Let  no  one 
leave  this  room.  Burnett,  'phone  headquarters. 


250  LIFE 

Have  them  rush,  the  reserves  and  detectives. 
And  tell  'em  to  notify  the  Coroner. " 

"At  once,"  said  Burnett,  hurrying  toward 
the  door. 

"The  windows  are  all  closed  and  locked, 
Chief,"  said  one  of  the  detectives.  On  his  way 
to  the  telephone  Burnett  smiled  to  himself. 
That  had  been  an  inspiration,  to  close  and  lock 
that  window ! 

"Oh-ho!"  said  Anderson,  addressing  no  one 
in  particular.  ' '  An  inside  job ! " 

At  this  the  silence  which  had  held  all  the 
guests  was  broken.  A  murmur  of  voices, 
pitched  in  a  subdued  key,  filled  the  room. 

"Shut  up,  all  of  you!"  thundered  Anderson. 
"I'll  do  all  the  talking  necessary." 

He  strode  over  to  one  of  the  windows,  and, 
throwing  it  open,  shouted  to  some  men  in  an 
automobile  in  the  street  outside. 

"Jim,  pick  up  the  peg  post  and  the  man  on 
beat,  and  put  'em  at  the  front  and  back  of  the 
house.  Don't  let  a  soul  leave.  And  you  others, 
come  in  here.  Quick ! ' ' 

He  closed  the  window  and  returned  to  his  sta- 
tion beside  the  fireplace.  An  elderly  gentleman, 
one  of  Mr.  Stuyvesant's  friends,  came  forward 
with  a  little  air  of  self-importance. 

"Of  course,  Inspector,  you  must  do  your 
duty.  But  there  is  no  necessity  for  keeping  us 
all  shut  in  here  with — with  the  body." 

"I'll  be  the  judge  of  that." 

"But  I  protest!" 


LIFE  251 

Eudely  pushing  him  aside,  Anderson  went 
over  and  stood  looking  down  at  Ruth's  bowed 
head. 

"I  tell  you,  I  protest.    I  protest  strongly!" 

"Shut  up!" 

"How  dare  you!  I'd  have  you  know 
that  I'm  Mr.  Elliott  Keen  Van  Courtlandt, 
and " 

"I  don't  give  a  damn  who  you  are.  There 
has  been  a  foul  murder  done  here.  The  police 
are  in  charge  now.  And  I'd  have  you  know, 
all  of  you,  that  I  don't  care  for  your  silks  and 
your  satins,  or  your  diamonds  and  your  money. 
You  all  look  alike  to  me.  All  I  know  is  that 
one  of  you  is  a  murderer.  And  I  intend  to 
find  out  which  one  of  you  it  is,  and  take  him, 
or  her,  no  matter  what  his  name  is." 

Half  a  dozen  policemen  in  uniform  came 
piling  through  the  door  in  time  to  hear  his  last 
words. 

"I'll  have  you  broken  for  this  outrage !"  said 
Van  Courtlandt  fiercely. 

"Will  you?  And  I'll  have  you  in  the  station 
house.  Take  him!" 

A  couple  of  policemen  seized  the  unfortunate 
gentleman  by  the  shoulder  and  dragged  him 
from  the  room.  One  of  the  guests  screamed 
hysterically. 

"If  any  of  you  women  begin  screaming  I'll 
take  you,  too!"  yelled  Anderson. 

"Look,  Chief,  there's  where  he  was  shot," 
said  one  of  the  detectives,  pointing  over  to  the 


252  LIFE 

window.  "They  must  have  dragged  him  over 
the  floor  to  that  chair." 

"Here's  the  gun,"  said  the  doctor,  holding 
it  out.  "I  just  found  it  on  the  floor  nearly 
under  the  chair." 

"Hum!"  said  Anderson,  taking  it  from  his 
hand,  ".38  Colt  Automatic.  Freshly  fired. 
That's  it." 

"Do  you  know  this  pistol,  Miss  Stuyvesant?" 
he  asked  in  a  gentler  voice  than  he  had  used 
yet. 

Euth  gave  no  sign  of  having  heard  him. 
Reid,  who  had  all  this  time  been  kneeling  by 
her,  vainly  trying  to  comfort  her,  whispered  in 
her  ear: 

"Mr.  Anderson  is  speaking  to  you,  sweet- 
heart. Better  try  to  answer  him." 

"I  don't  know  anything!  My  father!  My 
father!" 

"Did  your  father  have  a  pistol?" 

"Yes — no — I  don't  know.  I  don't  care! 
What  good  can  all  this  do  now?" 

"Your  father  has  been  murdered.  We  need 
your  help  to  find  who  is  guilty." 

"I  don't  want  to  know.  Will  knowing  bring 
him  back  to  me?" 

She  raised  her  tear-stained  face  and  looked 
about  her,  seeming  to  see  the  room  full  of  peo- 
ple for  the  first  time.  With  Reid's  help  she 
struggled  to  her  feet. 

"Get  these  people  out!"  She  turned  on  An- 
derson fiercely.  "Get  them  out,  I  say.  Can't 


LIFE  253 

I  be  left  alone  with  my  dead  father?  Get  them 
out!" 

"Hold  on,  young  woman!  You're  not  in 
charge  here,"  he  said,  relapsing  into  his  accus- 
tomed brutality. 

"Don't  you  dare  speak  to  her  like  that!"  said 
Reid,  facing  him. 

"I'll  speak  to  her  any  way  I  choose,  and  to 
you  any  way  I  choose.  Who  are  you  and  what 
have  you  to  do  with  this  affair?" 

"I  am  Mr.  Reid." 

"Mr.  Reid  was  my  father's  secretary,"  added 
Ruth. 

"Then  do  you  know  this  gun?" 

"It's  the  one  Mr.  Stuyvesant  kept  in  his 
desk." 

"You  are  sure?" 

"Yes." 

"What  makes  you  sure?" 

"I  bought  it  for  him." 

"So  you  bought  the  gun  that  he  kept  in  his 
desk,"  commented  the  detective  with  sneering 
emphasis. 

"What  are  you  getting  at?"  demanded  Reid 
savagely. 

"I'm  going  to  get  at  the  murderer  before  I 
finish." 

He  wheeled  on  the  frightened  guests. 

"Who  heard  the  shot  fired?  Did  you— or 
you — or  you?" 

He  pointed  from  one  to  the  other,  but  there! 
was  a  general  shaking  of  heads. 


254  LIFE 

"The  leader  of  the  orchestra  says  that  the 
music  was  playing,  Chief,  and  the  doors  were 
shut,"  said  a  policeman. 

1 '  Urn !    Who  discovered  the  body  I ' ' 

"I  did,"  saidEeid. 

'  *  0-h-h,  you  again !  How  did  you  happen  to 
discover  it?" 

"I  was  looking  for  Mr.  Stuyvesant.  The 
butler  told  me  he  was  in  here.  I  opened  the 
doors,  which  someone  had  closed.  The  room 
was  dark.  I  thought  at  first  that  he  was 
asleep." 

"How  did  you  see  him,  if  the  room  was 
dark?" 

"By  the  firelight." 

"Turn  off  those  lights,"  commanded  An- 
derson. 

One  of  the  detectives  immediately  switched 
off  the  lights.  A  number  of  the  women,  for- 
getting their  lesson,  screamed  again. 

"Shut  up,  all  of  you!  Now,  Reid,  rehearse 
what  you  did.  Go  back  to  the  door,  please,  and 
open  it  just  as  you  did." 

"The  room  was  dark,"  said  Reid,  speaking 
from  the  darkness  at  the  doorway;  "I  opened 
the  door  and  came  in.  I  saw  Mr.  Stuyvesant 
sitting  there  and  started  down  toward  him. 
I " 

"One  moment.  Did  you  see  or  hear  anything 
to  lead  you  to  believe  that  anyone  else  was  in 
the  room?" 

"No,  I  did  not" 


LIFE  255 

"Could  anyone  have  passed  yon  and  gone  out 
of  the  door?" 

"I  hardly  think  so." 

"Goon." 

"I  spoke  to  Mr.  Stuyvesant.  He  didn't  an- 
swer. I  touched  him.  He  was  dead.  I  turned, 
hurried  to  this  door  to  give  the  alarm  and  met 
Mr.  Burnett." 

As  he  turned  to  illustrate  his  action,  Burnett 
appeared  in  the  doorway,  returning  from 
having  sent  his  various  telephone  mes- 
sages. 

"And  then,"  said  Burnett,  interrupting,  "7 
turned  on  the  light  and  found  Mr.  Keid  shaking 
from  head  to  foot,  and  greatly  excited ! ' ' 

For  the  first  time  it  dawned  on  Reid  that  sus- 
picion was  beginning  to  point  toward  him.  Six 
months  ago  he  would  have  scoffed  at  the  idea 
of  any  innocent  man  being  falsely  accused  of 
crime.  He  always  discounted  such  stories  when 
he  read  of  them  in  the  papers.  Suddenly  it 
came  over  him  with  a  flash  that  it  was  not, 
after  all,  a  great  step  from  accusing  a  man  of 
forgery  to  accusing  him  of  murder. 

Burnett  had  been  his  accuser  in  the  first  place. 
What  if  he  should  take  it  into  his  head  to  accuse 
him  again?  Or  even  mention  that  his  late  em- 
ployer had  demanded  his  resignation  while  he 
was  under  suspicion  of  another  crime!  True, 
Mr.  Stuyvesant  himself  had  professed  to  be- 
lieve in  his  innocence.  But  Ralph  and  Burnett 
had  not,  or  at  least  had  pretended  that  they 


256  LIFE 

had  not.    And  now  Mr.  Stuyvesant  was  dead! 

"How  long  were  you  in  the  room!" 

"I  can't  say.  Not  over  an  hour — I  mean  over 
a  minute!"  He  corrected  himself  nervously. 
He  looked  up  and  met  Burnett's  eye.  He 
showed  no  signs  of  nervousness.  He  seemed 
perfectly  unconcerned,  and  a  faint  smile  played 
round  his  lips. 

Upon  Ruth,  too,  had  dawned  the  idea  of  the 
way  things  were  drifting.  It  roused  her  as 
nothing  else  could  from  her  absorption  in  the 
death  of  her  father.  For  the  first  time  she 
wondered  why  Ealph  had  not  come  forward. 
He  had  been  the  gayest  of  the  gay  in  the  supper- 
room.  But  since  she  had  come  running  at  Bur- 
nett's first  call  for  help  she  had  not  seen  him. 
But  for  the  moment  her  chief  concern  was  for 
Eeid. 

"I  object  to  all  this,"  she  said  coldly.  "I 
won't  have  it,  Mr.  Anderson.  My  father  is 

dead,  and — and "  For  a  second  she  could 

not  go  on,  the  full  realization  of  her  loss 
sweeping  over  her  afresh.  "It  isn't  as  if  you 
could  bring  him  back!"  she  went  on  passion- 
ately. "You  can't  do  any  good.  Stop!  I  de- 
mand that  you  stop ! ' ' 

"Miss  Stuyvesant,  I  must  again  remind  you 
that  this  is  one  time  when  you  don't  direct  the 
law,"  Anderson  answered  her  with  just  a  sug- 
gestion of  malice. 

She  made  a  little  helpless  gesture,  and  looked 
appealingly  at  Reid.  Anderson  caught  the  look. 


LIFE  257 

and,  if  possible,  looked  more  determined  and 
grimmer  than  ever. 

"When  you  entered,  Mr.  Burnett,"  he  said 
smoothly,  "did  you  notice  anyone  in  the  out- 
side room!" 

Burnett  thought  a  minute. 

"N-o-o,  I Oh,  yes.  The  dancing  man, 

Henri." 

"Is  he  here?" 

"There  he  is."  Burnett  pointed  to  a  cower- 
ing figure  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  room. 

"Come  out  here,  you!" 

But  the  terrified  Henri  did  not  move,  except 
to  try  to  hide  his  face  with  his  arm. 

Half  a  dozen  strides  brought  the  detective 
to  his  side.  Pulling  down  the  protecting  arm, 
he  peered  into  the  frightened  wretch's  face. 
He  gave  a  shrill  laugh  of  amusement. 

"Hel-lo!  In  the  name  of  all  that's  wonder- 
ful, Dago  Mike!  Well,  well,  well!  So  you've 
turned  dancer,  eh!  And  French!  Henri! 
Did  you  turn  honest  at  the  same  time!  Pah!" 

In  a  burst  of  savage  rage,  he  dragged  Dago 
Mike  by  the  collar  through  the  gaping  crowd 
that  drew  away  to  make  a  passage  for  him  and 
hurled  him  to  the  floor,  kicking  viciously  at  him 
as  he  did  so. 

"What  business  have  you  got  with  decent 
people?  You  dirty  little  pickpocket!" 

The  erstwhile  dapper  "Henri"  was  a  piti- 
ably abject  figure.  Anderson's  heavy  hand  had 
torn  his  collar  from  his  shirt.  The  terror 


258  LIFE 

under  which  he  was  manifestly  laboring  gave 
him  a  shrunken  look,  so  that  his  modish  clothes 
seemed  actually  too  large  for  his  wizened  little 
body. 

"I  ain't  done  nothin'!"  he  protested  shrilly. 
"I  don't  know  nothin'!  Honest  to  God,  Chief, 
I  don't." 

"Well,  you'd  better  know  somethin'  and 
damned  quick  at  that. ' ' 

"I— I "    He  looked  helplessly  at  Burnett. 

"Don't  forget  there  are  a  couple  of  in- 
dictments still  hanging  over  you.  And  if 
I  send  you  up  the  river,  you  go  as  a  third 
offender. ' ' 

"Good  God,  Chief,  that's  life!  I'll  tell  you 
anything — anything ! ' ' 

"Is  Mr.  Burnett's  story  true!" 

"Yes,  Chief,  yes.  I  saw  him  going  to  the 
door." 

"Did  you  see  this  man  go  in?" 

Anderson  indicated  Eeid  with  a  jerk  of  hi* 
head. 

Mike  looked  helplessly  from  Anderson  to 
Burnett  and  back  to  Anderson. 

"No,  sir." 

"Didn't  you1  see  me?"  demanded  Reid. 

Again  Mike  hesitated.  But  reading  in  An- 
derson's face  what  he  interpreted  as  the  police 
desire  for  conviction,  he  again  shook  his  head. 

"No,  sir." 

"Ah!"  said  Anderson,  with  a  smile  of  satis- 
faction. 


LIFE  259 

"Did  anyone  here  close  the  doors  of  this 
room?"  he  asked  after  a  short  silence. 

' '  I  did,  sir. ' '   It  was  the  butler  who  answered. 

"Why?" 

"Mr.  Stuyvesant  told  me  to  close  the  doors 
and  tell  Mr.  Burnett  that  he  wanted  to  see  him 
at  once." 

This  unexpected  reply  made  an  immediate 
sensation  on  every  person  present  with  the  ex- 
ception of  Burnett,  who  was  of  course  prepared 
for  it.  The  browbeaten  guests  so  far  forgot 
themselves  as  to  make  comments  in  a  low  tone, 
so  that  a  low  murmur  filled  the  room.  Ander- 
son, himself,  was  sufficiently  disconcerted  to 
permit  this  incipient  rebellion  to  pass  unre- 
buked. 

"He  sent  you  for  Mr.  Burnett!"  he  repeated, 
more  to  gain  time  than  because  he  had  not  per- 
fectly understood  the  man's  reply  to  his  earlier 
question. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"And  did  you  carry  out  his  orders?" 

"Yes,  sir.  I  told  Mr.  Burnett,  and  he  came 
at  once." 

"That  is  true,"  said  Burnett  calmly. 

"What  did  Mr.  Stuyvesant  want  with  you?" 

"I'd  rather  not  say." 

"I  didn't  ask  you  what  you'd  rather  do.  An- 
swer my  question." 

"He  had  discharged  his  secretary,  Mr.  Eeid, 
a  few  days  ago,  and  I  believe  forbidden  him  the 
house.  He  was  greatly  excited  over — over 


260  LIFE 

something.  Said  lie  had  telephoned  you,  or  was 
about  to  telephone  you.  I  am  not  sure  which. ' ' 

"Did  he  say  why  he  had  telephoned,  or  was 
about  to  telephone,  to  me?" 

"He  had  decided  to  press  a  charge  of  forgery 
against  Mr.  Reid." 

"That's  a  lie!"  Reid's  voice  rang  out. 

Burnett  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"You  will  doubtless  find  the  forged  check — 
it  is  drawn  for  twenty  thousand  dollars — in  one 
of  Mr.  Stuyvesant's  pockets." 

At  a  sign  from  Anderson,  one  of  the  detec- 
tives began  to  search  the  dead  man's  pock- 
ets. After  a  moment,  he  found  a  small,  folded 
piece  of  paper  which  he  opened  and,  having 
scrutinized  it  sharply,  handed  it  over  to  his 
superior. 

"Here  it  is,  Chief." 

"Mr.  Ealph  Stuyvesant  can  confirm  my 
story, ' '  volunteered  Burnett. 

All  eyes  searched  the  room  for  Ealph,  but 
he  was  not  to  be  seen. 

"He  was  here  only "began  Burnett,  when 

the  curtains  that  earlier  in  this  eventful  even- 
ing had  served  to  conceal  the  ingenuous  coun- 
tenance of  Mr.  Joseph  Schmidt,  yeggman, 
parted  to  disclose  a  Ralph  so  wan  and  haggard 
that  his  appearance  made  nearly  as  great  a 
sensation  as  the  butler's  unexpected  testimony 
had  done.  Only  Ruth,  who  was  aware  of  his 
extraordinary  and  morbid  fear  of  death,  could 
have  explained  his  hiding  behind  the  curtain 


LIFE  261 

and  his  complete  transformation  from  the 
Ealph  of  a  few  hours  before. 

"Have  you  heard  what  Mr.  Burnett  has  just 
stated  in  reference  to  Mr.  Reid  and  a  forged 
check!"  asked  Anderson. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Ralph  in  a  tone  so  low  that 
it  was  only  with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  those 
at  a  little  distance  could  catch  his  reply. 

"Say  it's  not  true,  Ralph!  Say  it's  not 
true ! ' '  begged  Ruth. 

"And  speak  louder,  if  you're  going  to  speak 
at  all,"  admonished  Anderson. 

"It's  the  truth.  I  was — present — when — my 
father  discharged  Mr.  Reid." 

"You  hear  that,  Reid?" 

"Yes,  and  it's  all  a  lie!"  protested  Reid 
stormily. 

*  *  Then  why  were  you  coming  to  see  Mr.  Stuy- 
vesant  at  the  time  you  say  you  found  him 
dead?" 

"I  was  coming  to "  He  stopped  short. 

"I  refuse  to  answer." 

"Really?" 

"If  Mr.  Reid  won't  answer,  I  will,"  said 
Ruth  in  her  ringing  voice.  "He  was  seeking 
my  father,  at  my  request,  to  announce  our  mar- 
riage." 

Dead  silence  greeted  this  astounding  state- 
ment. And  then  there  was  a  perfect  babel  of 
comment,  which  even  Anderson's  raised  hand 
could  not  check  for  the  nonce. 

"  It 's  the  shock.    She  doesn  't  know  what  she 's 


262  LIFE 

saying,"  said  Ralph  with  more  real  conviction 
than  his  tone  generally  showed. 

"It  isn't  true,  I'll  take  my  oath  on  it!"  raged 
Burnett. 

"I'll  take  mine  it  is!"  said  Jennie  Bruce, 
who  was  standing  near  him.  "You  see,  I  was 
there." 

Ruth  waited  a  minute  for  the  clamor  to  die 
down.  She  wore  a  sort  of  angry  smile.  Her 
eyes  held  Anderson's. 

"It  is  true.    Now,  do  you  believe  him?" 

But  Anderson's  face  had  grown  instantly 
grave  at  her  first  words.  And  now  his  gruff 
voice  was  almost  gentle,  as  he  said : 

"I  honor  your  belief  in  the  man  you  love, 
Mrs.  Reid,  but  it  has  remained  for  you  to  fur- 
nish the  strongest  motive  of  all  for  this  crime." 
And  then,  sternly:  "William  Reid,  I  arrest  you 
on  the  charge  of  murder. ' ' 

"No,  no!  Yousha'n't,yousha'n't!  He's  in- 
nocent. I'll  stick  to  him.  I'll  clear  him.  He's 
innocent,  I  tell  you!  My  husband!"  screamed 
Ruth. 

He  had  her  in  his  arms,  caressing,  soothing, 
attempting  to  calm  her. 

"My  little  wife !  My  darling !  Of  course  it's 
a  horrid  mistake.  The  charge  won't  stand  a 
moment  in  a  court.  Don't  cry,  sweetheart,  I'll 
be  back  again  in  a  few  hours ! ' ' 

"Take  him!"  said  Anderson. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

How  Euth  Eeid  lived  through  the  strain  of 
the  awful  months  that  followed  her  father's 
murder  and  kept  her  reason  was  a  wonder  to 
many  of  her  former  friends.  But  she  was 
young,  she  had  a  superb  constitution,  splendid 
health  and  an  inexhaustible  store  of  vitality  to 
draw  upon.  But  more  sustaining  than  all,  she 
had  her  undiminished  faith  in  her  husband's 
innocence,  undimmed  by  the  verdict  of  the 
world. 

For  Big  Bill  Reid,  the  erstwhile  idol  of  Yale, 
had  been  found  guilty  of  murder  and  condemned 
to  death. 

As  Ruth  sat  day  after  day  in  the  crowded 
courtroom  watching  the  slow  unfolding  of  the 
plot,  so  well  worked  up,  which  was  to  carry 
conviction  of  guilt  not  only  to  the  minds  of  the 
jury,  but  to  the  world  at  large,  she  had  abso- 
lutely no  feeling  of  reality.  It  was  a  grotesque 
impossibility  that  a  man's  life  should  be  sworn 
away  in  any  such  fashion.  But  Bull  Anderson 
and  the  District  Attorney  had  done  their  work 
only  too  well. 

Facts  were  distorted,  sinister  motives 
ascribed  to  the  simplest  acts.  Reid  was  painted 
as  a  perfect  Frankenstein,  a  monster  of  ingrati- 
tude, a  primitive  animal  with  a  natural  lust  for 

263 


264  LIFE 

blood,  and  a  crafty,  scheming  creature  who 
would  stoop  to  any  act  of  mean  dishonesty  to 
gratify  his  love  of  gold,  in  turn. 

And  to  Ruth's  astonishment,  the  newspapers, 
almost  without  exception,  condemned  her  hus- 
band from  the  first.  The  jurors  were  called 
upon  to  uphold  the  honor  of  the  community  and 
show  that  the  "Stuyvesant  millions  could  not 
buy  this  young  ruffian  off."  She  almost  felt 
glad  that  her  father  had  not  lived  to  know  that 
his  fortune  so  honorably  and  honestly  acquired 
was  regarded  as  "blood  money"  wrung  from 
the  sweat  and  labor  of  the  poor!  Nor  did  the 
papers  spare  her.  She,  too,  was  an  unnatural 
creature  without  a  heart.  A  weak,  neurotic 
creature,  fascinated  by  her  husband's  physical 
charms. 

And  during  the  long  suspense,  pending  the 
decision  which  was  eventually  to  deny  them  a 
new  trial,  she  read  with  a  curling  lip  the  tirades 
against  the  law's  delays,  the  angry  declarations 
that  in  this  country  the  rich  were  never  brought 
to  justice,  that  only  the  poor  paid  the  penalty 
of  crime !  Over  and  over  again  she  blessed  the 
millions  which  enabled  her  to  fight  in  this  un- 
equal contest  for  the  man  she  loved  and  whom 
she  knew  to  be  guiltless  of  all  the  crimes  with 
which  he  was  charged. 

Through  her  darkest  hours,  five  people  had 
stood  faithfully  by  her.  Jennie  Bruce  and 
Jimmy,  her  father's  old  friend,  Mr.  MacLaren, 
and  last,  but  not  least,  her  two  humble  friends, 


LIFE  265 

Tessie  and  Dennis.  Important  changes  had 
taken  place  in  this  little  group.  For  Jennie 
and  Jimmy,  Tessie  and  Dennis,  had  been  mar- 
ried in  the  past  year. 

And  now  there  was  but  one  hope  left.  To- 
day she  and  Mr.  MacLaren  were  to  go  to  Albany 
to  see  the  Governor,  to  make  one  last  appeal. 

This  same  morning  Tessie  O'Brien  was  busy 
at  her  old  desk  at  Stuyvesant  and  Company's 
when  she  looked  up  to  see  a  strange  figure  com- 
ing in  unannounced  from  the  waiting-room  out- 
side. The  man  was  fairly  well  dressed,  but 
Tessie  noted  his  shifting  eye  and  his  extraor- 
dinary pallor  with  inward  disapproval.  Be- 
sides, he  had  no  business  walking  in  on  her  in 
that  fashion! 

' 'Well,  who  are  you?' ' 

4 'My  name  is  Schmidt,  Joe  Schmidt." 

"And  what's  your  business!" 

"Private  and  personal  with  Mr.  Burnett." 

"Well,  there's  a  waiting-room  outside  full  of 
people  with  private  and  personal  business. 
Wait  till  I  get  hold  of  the  office  boy  that  let  you 
by!" 

"All  right,  Miss.  No  offense,  but  I've  got 
business  that  will  interest  him — on  the  level. 
Will  you  give  him  this  letter  ? ' ' 

"All  right.  Now  the  waiting-room  for 
yours!" 

Joe  bowed  himself  out. 

She  had  been  working  busily  for  about  five 
minutes  when  O'Brien  came  in,  and  as  usual 


266  LIFE 

they  talked  on  the  one  topic  that  absorbed  them. 

"Hello,  hello!"  said  Tessie  at  the  telephone. 
"No,  Mr.  Burnett  has  not  come  in.  Who's  this! 
Joe  Schmidt!  I  told  you  I'd  give  him  your 
note!" 

She  hung  up  the  receiver  in  indignation, 

"What  name  was  that?" 

"Joe  Schmidt.  Some  crank  who's  been  writ- 
ing letters  and  tryin'  to  see  Mr.  Burnett  for 
the  last  week.  He's  outside  now." 

"Tessie!  Do  you  remember  me  tellin'  you 
of  the  man  who  was  my  pal  before  I  turned 
straight?  That's  TiimT  Joe  Schmidt — Dutch 
Joe!" 

"Dennis!" 

"He's  no  four-flusher,  Dutch  Joe  ain't.  He 
wouldn't  be  here  without  he  had  some  good  rea- 
son. That's  what  we  got  to  find  out.  Where's 
that  letter?" 

"But,  Dennis!" 

His  eye  fell  on  the  letter  lying  on  the  table. 
Before  Tessie  could  remonstrate  further  he  had 
torn  it  open. 

1 1  Listen  to  this !  '  Mr.  Burnett :  I  have  a  story 
to  tell  that  will  interest  you.  It's  about  the' 
Stuyvesant  case.  I'm  down  and  out  and  des- 
perate. Will  you  see  me,  or  shall  I  go  to  some- 
one else  with  my  confession?  The  Man  Who 
Turned  Off  the  Lights.'  Well,  what  do  you 
think  of  that!  Here!  Put  it  in  another  en- 
velope, quick.  I  hear  the  boss." 

When  Burnett  came  in,  Tessie  was  fussing 


LIFE  267 

with  some  papers  and  Dennis  was  busy  dusting 
the  chairs. 

"Anyone  call  me?" 

"Only  a  man  named  Schmidt,  sir." 

"Don't  know  him.  Tell  him  to  write  for  an 
appointment. ' ' 

"He  left  this  note,  sir." 

"All  right." 

He  took  the  note  carelessly  and  went  on  into 
his  office,  which  had  once  been  Mr.  Stuy- 
vesant's  private  office.  He  had  just  begun  to 
open  his  mail,  when  Tessie  came  to  say  that 
Miss  Barresford  was  waiting,  which  was  not 
quite  accurate,  as  Grace  was  almost  on  her  heels. 

"I'm  very  busy  just  now,"  began  Burnett 
irritably. 

"Beg  pardon,  sir,"  said  Tessie,  "but  the 
Schmidt  man  won't  go.  Says  you'll  regret  it  if 
you  don't  see  him." 

"Have  him  thrown  out." 

"He  says  to  tell  you  it's  about  the  Stuy- 
vesant  case." 

Burnett  swung  his  chair  around  so  that 
Tessie  could  not  see  his  face. 

"Oh,  very  well.  Tell  him  to  wait.  I'll  see 
him  later,"  he  managed  to  say. 

With  a  show  of  carelessness,  Burnett  picked 
up  Joe's  note  which  he  had  thrown  on  his  desk. 
As  he  read  it,  a  gray  pallor  spread  itself  over 
his  face.  It  is  not  good  to  see  naked  fear  in 
a  man's  face.  Grace  shuddered  and  turned 
away  her  head. 


268  LIFE 

After  what  seemed  a  long  time,  he  shoved 
the  note  under  some  papers  as  if  it  were  of 
little  importance,  and,  getting  up,  began  to  pace 
the  floor  in  an  effort  to  recover  his  self- 
possession. 

"What  is  it,  Tom?" 

"Nothing." 

When  his  back  was  turned,  she  quietly 
reached  over  for  the  letter  and  read  it,  her  own 
face  blanching  as  she  did  so.  He  turned  and 
saw  it  in  her  hand. 

' '  How  dare  you  read  a  private  letter ! ' ' 

"Hadn't  you  better  tell  me  the  truth,  Tom?" 
she  said  wearily. 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Oh,  I've  felt  from  the  first  that  Reid  did 
not  kill  Mr.  Stuyvesant.  I've  wondered  and 
feared !  And  now  I  find  this  note.  Tell  me  the 
truth,  dear.  Surely  you  can  trust  the  woman 
who  loves  you!  Won't  it  be  easier  to  have  me 
bear  it  with  you?" 

He  sank  into  his  chair  and  buried  his  face  in 
his  hands  for  a  moment.  Presently  he  looked 
up,  and  these  two  haggard  creatures  stared  each 
other  in  the  face.  The  last  few  months  had 
played  havoc  with  them  both. 

"Yes!  I — I  did  it!"  His  voice  was  sharply 
staccato. 

She  gave  a  little  moan,  and  came  over  and 
stood  with  her  arm  about  his  shoulder. 

"I  didn't  mean  to  do  it,  Grace,  God  knows 
I  didn't.  But  he  had  me.  He  knew  everything. 


LIFE  269 

He  threatened  me  with  prison.  I  went  staring 
mad !  And  when  I  came  to,  he  was  lying  there 
on  the  floor — dead!  And  the  damned  music  in 
the  next  room  playing  a  waltz  song !  * ' 

"But  this  note?" 

"There  was  someone  else  in  the  room.  Some- 
one switched  off  the  light.  That 's  what's  break- 
ing me !  I  could  have  stood  the  other — the  dead 
man,  but  the  other!  The  thought  that  there's 
someone  who  can  put  me  where  I've  put  Reid! 
And  now  it's  come!  It's  come!  Grace,"  he 
said,  holding  out  his  arms  appealingly,  "what 
am  I  to  do!" 

"Pull  yourself  together  first,  Tom!"  She 
patted  his  shoulder  reassuringly. 

"What's  the  use?    I " 

"You  must,"  said  Grace  with  decision. 
'  *  Who  is  this  man  ?  If  he  knew,  he  never  would 
have  waited  so  long.  He  says  he's  down  and 
out  and  desperate.  Can  the  story  of  a  man  like 
that  hurt  you,  no  matter  how  true  it  may  be?" 

"Would  you  see  him?" 

"Yes.  But  put  him  off.  Stall  him.  Once 
Reid's  punished  for  the  crime,  his  story '11  be 
no  good!" 

"But  until  then?" 

"You  must  keep  him  quiet  " 

"And  if  he  won't?" 

"Then  there's  just  one  thing  to  do." 

At  the  look  she  gave  him  which  pointed  her 
dreadful  meaning,  he  fell  to  shuddering  again. 

"No,  no!    I  won't  do  that!    I  can't!" 


270  LIFE 

"You  must,"  she  said  firmly.  "And  see  him 
now.  Where  can  I  go?" 

"In  there."  He  nodded  toward  a  little  room 
opening  out  of  his.  "Come  back  in  ten  min- 
utes." 

"Careful!"  she  warned,  as  she  went  out,  clos- 
ing the  door  behind  her. 

Once  alone,  Burnett  made  an  effort  to  pull 
himself  together.  Drawing  a  long  breath,  he 
lighted  a  fresh  cigar  and  puffed  it  until  it 
glowed  warmly.  Opening  a  drawer  in  his  desk, 
he  took  from  it  a  revolver,  and,  after  examin- 
ing it  carefully,  put  it  back,  closed  the  drawer, 
and  rang  for  Tessie. 

"Show  the  Schmidt  man  in." 

"Yes,  sir." 

When  Joe  came  in  he  was  making  a  pretense 
of  working  at  the  desk. 

"You  sent  this  note?" 

"Surest  thing  you  know,"  said  Joe  genially. 

"What  does  it  mean?" 

"You  went  to  college.  You  can  read,  can't 
you?" 

"What  do  you  want?" 

"Money." 

"What  for?" 

"Aw!"  said  Joe  in  disgust,  "for  manicuring 
the  Statue  of  Liberty !  You  know  what  I  want 
it  for.  For  saving  a  guy  from  sitting  on  that 
little  throne  in  Sing  Sing.  Nothin'  less!" 

' '  You  mean  you  want  me  to  pay  you  for  sav- 
ing Beid's  life?" 


LIFE  271 

"I  mean  if  you  pay  me,  I  save  you.  If  he 
pays  me,  I  save  him.  I  should  worry!" 

"That  will  do,"  said  Burnett  sharply.  "If 
you  had  any  story  to  tell  that  would  make  any 
difference,  would  a  man  like  you  have  waited 
a  year  to  tell  it?  Eidiculous!" 

"Oh,  that's  what's  troublin'  you,  is  it?  Do 
you  know  the  answer ?  I  was  detained." 

"Prison,  I'll  wager." 

"You  guessed  it,"  said  Joe,  perfectly  un- 
abashed. "An'  I  didn't  see  the  use  of  dividin* 
with  a  crook  lawyer,  when  I  knew  I'd  be  out 
in  time  to  get  it  all  myself.  Get  me  ? ' ' 

Burnett  reached  for  the  telephone. 

"What  are  you  doin'?"  asked  Joe,  starting 
to  his  feet. 

"I'm  going  to  call  the  police  to  take  you  for 
attempted  blackmail." 

"You  wouldn't  do  that  to  me?  You 
wouldn't!" 

Joe  simulated  fear  so  well  that  Burnett  was 
completely  deceived. 

"You'll  see." 

"I  ain't  done  nothin'  to  harm  you,  Mr.  Bur- 
nett. I  don't  want  to  hurt  you.  I'm  just  let 
out  of  prison,  a  poor  down-and-out.  I  need 
money,  that's  all." 

"  Oh !    Then  it 's  charity  you  want  ? ' ' 

"Well,  you  might  call  it  charity." 

"Urn!  That's  different.  Now,  what  is  this 
remarkable  story?" 

"I  was  in  the  room  behind  the  window  cur- 


272  LIFE 

tain.  I  heard  everything.  I  switched  off  the 
light  to " 

"What  were  you  doing  there?"  interrupted 
Burnett. 

"Come  to  rob  the  house." 

He  spoke  of  it  as  simply  as  if  he  had  said  that 
he  had  come  to  get  his  umbrella. 

"You  damned  crook!" 

"Sure.    You  damned  murderer!" 

"What!"  Burnett  sprang  to  his  feet  sav- 
agely. 

For  the  first  time  Joe  showed  his  teeth. 

"I  said  it.    What's  the  answer?" 

The  time  to  make  his  bluff  had  come,  it 
seemed  to  Burnett. 

"This:  The  story  of  no  convicted  crook  is 
going  to  stand  up  in  court.  And  I  warn  you 
that  the  day  you  tell  it  you'll  be  arrested  for 
perjury." 

"Oh,  I  know  that  a  convicted  felon's  oath  is 
no  good  to  save  a  man  from  the  chair.  But  one 
word  from  me  to  Mrs.  Eeid,  or  her  lawyers,  and 
they'll  start  an  investigation  that  will  ruin  yoi, 
and  break  down  the  case  against  Reid ;  because 
I  have  the  record  of  your  stealings  in  your  own 
handwriting — the  paper  old  man  Stuyvesarit 
dropped  when  you  shot  him — to  prove  it." 

It  was  Joe's  turn  to  reach  for  the  tele- 
phone. 

"What  are  you  doing  with  that  'phone?" 

"Nothin'  much.  Just  goin'  to  call  the  cops 
to  make  that  pinch!"  said  Joe  with  a  laugh 


LIFE  273 

which  changed  into  a  snarl.  "Now,  what  the 
hell  are  you  goin'  to  do  about  that?" 

There  was  silence  in  the  room  for  a  minute 
or  two.  Burnett's  eyes  fell  before  the  other's 
piercing  gaze.  With  a  jerk  he  had  the  drawer 
of  the  desk  open  and  his  pistol  in  his  hand. 
But  Joe  was  quicker  than  he.  His  pistol  was 
out  of  his  pocket  like  a  flash,  covering  Burnett. 

"  Drop  it,  Burnett !    Drop  it !" 

Sullenly  Burnett  obeyed.  With  an  oath  he 
shoved  the  pistol  to  the  back  of  the  drawer, 
and,  closing  it,  locked  it. 

"If  you  want  anything  from  me,  you  give 
me  that  paper,"  he  blustered. 

"Nothin'  doin'.  This  ain't  cash  on  delivery. 
This  is  delivery  on  cash." 

"How  much  money  do  you  want?" 

"One  hundred  thousand  dollars." 

"Impossible!" 

"Don't  make  me  laugh!  With  a  whole  bank 
to  draw  on?  Besides,  you've  done  it  before." 

"Suppose  I  pay  you:  how  would  I  know  that 
you  'd  stay  bought  ? ' ' 

"My  word,  of  course." 

"That's  great  security!" 

There  was  a  long  pause. 

"All  right.  I '11  pay.  You'll  have  to  get  out 
of  the  country,  though." 

"I  can  stand  it,  if  the  country  can.  Where 
do  I  go?" 

"Mexico." 

' l  Say !   I  may  be  a  crook,  but  I  'm  no  bandit. ' ' 


274  LIFE 

"The  bank  has  some  mines  near  Chihuahua. 
You'll  be  paid  through  the  Bank  of  Chihuahua. 
Twenty-five  thousand  every  three  months — and 
you'll  sign  a  receipt  for  it.  Advance  royalties 
on  your  invention." 

"Oh,  I'm  an  inventor,  am  If" 

"When  you've  got  the  last  of  your  money 
you  can  go  wherever  you  wish." 

"To  hell,  I  suppose." 

"Preferably!" 

He  crossed  the  room  to  a  small  safe,  the  door 
of  which  was  already  open.  With  a  key  which 
he  took  from  his  pocket  he  unlocked  a  drawer 
and  took  out  a  roll  of  bills,  which  he  counted 
and  handed  to  Joe,  who  counted  it  in  his  turn. 

"Here!  You  said  twenty-five  thousand. 
This  is  only  five  thousand." 

"I'll  pay  you  the  rest  in  a  few  days.  We'll 
meet  in  some  quiet  place.  Meantime,  in  case 
I  want  you,  where  will  I  find  you?" 

"You  won't  find  me.  I'll  meet  you  some- 
where. I'll  telephone  you  where  and  when." 

Taking  a  not  overclean  handkerchief  from 
his  pocket,  Dutch  Joe  proceeded  to  tie  up  his 
money  in  it,  having  left  out  a  bill  or  two  for 
current  expenses.  Burnett  had  resumed  his 
march  across  the  room,  pausing  to  look  out  of 
the  window.  Neither  one  of  them  saw  Tessie, 
who  opened  the  door  quietly  and  stood  on  the 
threshold,  note  book  in  hand. 

"I've  got  to  have  that  paper  when  I  pay  you 
the  first  twenty-five  thousand." 


LIFE  275 

He  half  turned  and  saw  Tessie. 

"Why  don't  you  knock!" 

"I  thought  I  heard  your  bell,  sir." 

"Get  out!" 

"Yes,  sir."    Tessie  vanished. 

"You  heard  what  I  said  about  the  paper?" 

"Forget  it,  Bo!  You'll  get  that  paper  when 
you  make  the  last  payment,  and  not  till  then. 
Well,  s'long.  Take  care  of  your  health.  I'd 
hate  to  hear  you  was  sick,"  Joe  grinned  at  him. 

In  the  doorway  he  paused  to  utter  a  final 
warning. 

"Remember!  Don't  you  try  any  double- 
cross.  If  you  do,  you  know  what '11  happen. 
S'long." 

Burnett  went  to  the  door  leading  to  the 
other  room  and  tapped  on  it  sharply  with  a 
key. 

"Sorry  to  have  kept  you  so  long,  darling." 

"Well?    Did  you  buy  him  off!" 

"His  price  is  too  high.  MacLaren  is  moving 
Heaven  and  earth  to  force  an  investigation  of 
the  bank's  books.  I  wouldn't  dare  take  a  cent 
more. ' ' 

"Then,  Tom,  it's  his  life  or  yours.  Did  you 
have  him  followed?" 

"Never  thought  of  it!  But  I've  got  just  the 
man.  O'Brien's  an  ex-convict,  but  he's  faith- 
ful." 

"Very  well.  Have  this  O'Brien  follow  him, 
and  then,  when  the  time  comes,  you  must " 

"Did  you  ring,  sir?"  asked  O'Brien. 


276  LIFE 

"Yes.  There's  a  man  named  Schmidt  who 
has  just  left  me." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Do  you  know  him?" 

"Never  saw  him  before,  sir,"  lied  O'Brien 
easily. 

* '  Do  you  think  you  could  catch  him  I  He  can 't 
have  gone  far.  I  want  you  to  shadow  him  for 
a  few  days  without  his  suspecting  it. ' ' 

"Excuse  me,  sir."  Dennis  stepped  past 
Burnett  to  the  window.  "That's  him,  ain't  it, 
sir?" 

He  pointed  to  Dutch  Joe,  who,  in  common 
with  a  number  of  others,  had  stopped  to  buy 
an  "extra"  which  half  a  dozen  newsboys  were 
bawling  through  the  street  below. 

"Yes.  Shadow  him.  Let  me  know  where 
he  goes,  what  he  does,  what  sort  of  people  he 
talks  to.  Here  " — he  handed  him  some  bills — 
"handle  this  job  well,  and  it  will  mean  a  good 
deal  to  you.  The  man's  an  inventor.  I'm 
afraid  he  may  take  my  money  and  try  to  sell  to 
someone  else,  too." 

"I'm  on!"  said  O'Brien,  as  he  departed  on 
the  run. 

"I'll  watch,"  said  Grace.  "He  might  look 
up  and  see  you." 

She  took  her  station  at  the  window.  Almost 
immediately  she  gave  a  little  nod  of  satisfac- 
tion. Dutch  Joe,  still  absorbed  in  his  paper, 
was  moving  slowly  along  the  street,  with 
O'Brien,  his  coat  collar  turned  up  and  his  hat 


LIFE  277 

slouched  over  Ms  eye,  only  a  few  paces  in  the 
rear. 

Suddenly  her  expression  changed.  She  threw 
open  the  window.  From  below  came  the  rau- 
cous cry  of  the  newsboys. 

"Extry!  Extry!  Governor  refuses  to  grani 
wife 's  prayer !  Bill  Reid  must  die ! " 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

IN  a  large,  handsome  room  on  the  second 
story  of  the  Stuyvesant  house,  Ruth  was  pacing 
the  floor,  a  look  of  determination  on  her  pale 
face.  At  that  moment  the  likeness  to  her  father 
was  striking.  Dago  Mike,  in  a  dirty,  shabby 
old  suit  of  clothes,  sat  huddled  in  an  armchair, 
occasionally  holding  out  his  not  overclean 
hands  to  the  fire  that  blazed  on  the  hearth. 

"Then  that  is  really  all  you  know?"  asked 
Ruth,  pausing  in  her  restless  walk. 

"Yes,  ma'm.    I've  told  you  everything.'* 

"I'm  going  to  give  you  a  chance,  Mike." 

"A  job?" 

"And  honest  money." 

"God!"  said  Mike  with  a  tragic  gesture,  "it'll 
be  great  to  walk  along  the  street  again  and  look 
a  Bull  in  the  eye  without  dodging!" 

"Mr.  MacLaren  is  below,  Mrs.  Reid,"  said  a 
servant. 

"Show  him  up,  please.  Mike,  go  into  the 
other  room  until  I  send  for  you. ' ' 

"Yes,  ma'm." 

"Ruth,"  said  Mr.  MacLaren  at  the  door, 
"I've  brought  Mr.  Anderson  with  me.  He  was 
at  my  house  when  your  message  came." 

He  came  in,  followed  by  Anderson. 

' '  Good  evening,  Mr.  Anderson. ' ' 

278 


LIFE  279 

"Good  evening,  Mrs.  Reid." 

"You  have  told  Mr.  Anderson  what  we  have 
learned  about  the  missing  bonds!" 

"Yes." 

"Doesn't  that  prove  that  my  husband  is  the 
victim  of  a  conspiracy!" 

"No,  Mrs.  Reid,  it  doesn't  prove  anything." 

"Oh,  you've  believed  him  guilty  from  the 
first!"  said  Ruth  bitterly.  "Suppose  I  prove 
to  you  that  there  was  another  man  in  the 
room?" 

1  *  You  must  show  me. ' ' 

"Mike,  come  here,"  said  Ruth,  opening  a 
door. 

"Tell  Mr.  Anderson  what  you've  told  me." 

"I'll  tell  you  something  first,"  said  Ander- 
son, glaring  at  the  little  pickpocket.  "If  you 
were  in  that  room,  if  anybody  committed 
the  crime  except  the  man  convicted,  you  did 
it." 

"No,  no,  Chief!  I  ain't  done  nothin'.  Hon- 
est to  God,  I  ain't!"  cried  Mike,  all  of  his  old 
terror  returning. 

"Go  on,  Mike,"  said  Ruth  soothingly. 

"Dutch  Joe  come  to  the  place  I  was  danc- 
ing  " 

"Dutch  Joe?" 

"Yes.    Dutch  Joe-^Toe  Schmidt." 

"Well?" 

"He  said  if  I  didn't  open  the  window  for 
him  he'd  get  me." 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  the  police?" 


280  LIFE 

11  Squeal?  Say,  you  know  what  a  squealer 
gets!" 

"Go  on." 

"I  opened  the  window  just  before  Mr.  Stuy- 
vesant  come  in.  I  got  out  quick,  leavin'  him 
in  the  room  and  Dutch  Joe  behind  the  curtain. ' ' 

'  <  There !    You  see ' '  began  Euth. 

"It  sounds  very  plausible  to  me,"  said  Mr. 
MacLaren. 

Anderson  gave  a  harsh  laugh. 

"You  poor,  lyin'  little  crook!  Dutch  Joe 
hasn't  been  in  town  for  six  years." 

"Oh,  hasn't  he?"  said  a  voice  from  the  door. 
And  O'Brien  and  Tessie  came  into  the  room. 

"You're  wrong,  Bull  Anderson.  Dutch  Joe 
at  this  minute  is  in  Eoom  1410  at  the  McAlpin 
Hotel,  registered  as  Joseph  Edwards." 

"What?    That's  nonsense!" 

"Is  it?"  laughed  Dennis.  "That  boy's  tell- 
ing the  truth.  Dutch  Joe  was  in  the  room  when 
Mr.  Stuyvesant  was  murdered,  and  I've  got  his 
own  letter  to  prove  it." 

* '  Thank  God !  Thank  God ! ' '  Euth  sank  into 
a  chair  and  buried  her  face  in  her  hands. 

"Now,  Bull  Anderson,"  exulted  O'Brien, 
"maybe  you'll  believe  at  last  that  a  crook  can 
tell  the  truth!" 

Anderson's  face  flamed. 

"I  don't  believe  it!  Not  when  you  have  to 
depend  on  another  squealing  crook  to  back  it. 
Dago  Mike,  the  pickpocket  and  cadet,  and  Kid 
Wallace,  the  bank  robber!  A  likely  story!  I 


LIFE  281 

confess  I  thought  at  first  this  was  only  a  dirty 
plot  cooked  up  by  you,  Mike,  to  get  money  out 
of  Mrs.  Reid.  But  I  see  now  that  I  was  mis- 
taken. 

"I  don't  blame  you,  Mrs.  Eeid,"  he  went  on 
after  a  moment,  in  a  more  gentle  tone.  "It's 
your  husband's  life  you're  fightin'  for.  And 
I  agree  that  a  wife  is  justified  in  doin'  'most 
anything,  even  if  it  is  a  little  crooked.  But  I 
am  surprised  at  you" — he  turned  on  MacLaren 
"stooping  to  this!  Did  you  really  believe  that 
the  cooked-up  testimony  of  these  squealing  rats 
could  save  your  man?  Pah!" 

"Do  you  mean  to  insinuate,  Anderson,  that 
I " 

"I  don't  insinuate  anything,  Mr.  MacLaren. 
Now,  here  are  the  facts.  You  bring " 

"Facts!"  broke  in  O'Brien  angrily.  "Why 
the  hell  don't  you  stick  to  facts  and  get  away 
from  your  damned  police  theories?  We've  got 
facts.  That's  what  we're  tryin'  to  give  you. 
Facts  backed  by  a  letter  to  prove  'em.  You 
don't  want  facts !  You're  willin'  to  let  the  real 
murderer  go,  and  let  an  innocent  man  go  to 
the  chair,  just  to  save  your  reputation  as  a  de- 
tective ! ' ' 

Anderson's  face  grew  fairly  murderous  as 
he  listened  to  this  tirade.  For  a  second  it 
looked  as  if  he  were  about  to  strike  O'Brien 
with  his  clenched  fist.  But  the  watchman  never 
flinched.  With  a  great  effort  he  recovered  his 
self-control. 


282  LIFE 

*  *  I  think  you  're  lyin ' — all  of  you.  I  think  it 's 
a  frame-up  from  beginning  to  end.  I  believe 
Reid's  guilty.  But  if  you  have  one  bit  of  tangi- 
ble proof  to  back  up  this  wild  story,  the  whole 
detective  force  is  at  your  service.  I'll  work 
day  and  night  to  get  at  the  truth.  All  I  want 
is  to  have  the  guilty  man  punished.  And  I 
guess  my  reputation  can  take  care  of  itself!" 

"Good  for  you!"  said  O'Brien.  "Now, 
Tessie  O'Brien,  go  to  it!" 

"Well,  what  do  you  know?"  asked  Anderson. 

"Oh,  nothin'  much,"  said  Tessie  coolly. 
1 '  Only  the  man  you  call  Dutch  Joe  and  Mr.  Bur- 
nett were  shut  up  in  his  private  office  for  nearly 
twenty  minutes  this  morning.  And " 

"You're  sure  of  that?" 

"Yes,  sir.  And  when  I  happened  to  come  in 
suddenly,  Joe  was  tyin'  up  a  big  roll  of  bills  in 
his  handkerchief  and  I  heard  him  say:  'You'll 
get  that  paper  when  you  pay  me  the  last  pay- 
ment, and  not  till  then.'  " 

1 '  Paper  ?   What  paper  t '  * 

"Can't  say,  sir.  But  I  guess  this  note  from 
Dutch  Joe  to  Burnett  has  somethin'  to  do  with 
it." 

"Did  Dutch  Joe  write  this?  It's  not  even 
signed." 

"No,  sir.  Mr.  Burnett  tore  his  note  up.  But 
Dutch  Joe  gave  it  to  me,  and  Dennis  and  me 
both  read  it.  That's  a  true  copy.  I'll  swear 
to  that." 

"And   I    guess    she's   no    crook!  "    crowed 


LIFE  283 

O'Brien,  his  face  beaming  with  triumph.  Euth 
hurried  over  to  Anderson's  side  and  began  to 
read  the  note  which  he  held  in  his  hand. 

"  'Will  you  see  me,  or  shall  I  go  to  someone 

else  with  my  confession '  You  hear,  Mr. 

Anderson?  He  wants  to  make  a  confession. 
Now  are  you  convinced!" 

'"The  Man  Who  Turned  Off  the  Lights,'  " 
finished  Anderson. 

"Well,  Bull,  what  do  you  think  of  that!"  de- 
manded Dennis. 

'  *  The  man  must  have  been  in  the  room,  just  as 
Mike  says,"  Ruth's  voice  was  once  more  full  of 
hope. 

1  'And  Burnett  and  this  man  are  working  to- 
gether. You  must  agree  to  that,"  urged  Mr. 
MacLaren. 

"You  can't  accuse  Mr.  Burnett  of  this  crime. 
Remember,  he  accounted  for  every  second  of  his 
time  that  night.  Besides,  there's  no  motive." 

"I  believe  he'd  shield  the  real  murderer," 
said  Ruth  positively. 

"Why?" 

"He  hates  my  husband  so!" 

"Who's  the  administrator  of  your  father's 
estate?" 

"He  is." 

' '  Oh.    Has  an  accounting  been  rendered  ? ' ' 

"He  says  there  hasn't  been  time." 

"I'd  attend  to  that,  if  I  were  you,"  said  An- 
derson grimly. 

"I'll  see  to  that,"  said  MacLaren. 


284  LIFE 

"As  to  this  other  story,  it's  too  far-fetched, 
too  wild.  Any  court  would  laugh  at  it.  Unless 
you  can  prove  that  Burnett  is  deeply,  vitally 
interested  in  Dutch  Joe  the  whole  story  isn't 
worth  the  powder " 

"Can  I  use  the  'phone?  "  asked  O'Brien  ex- 
'citedly. 

"Certainly." 

"Can  a  call  from  here  be  traced?" 

"No,"  said  Ruth.  "It's  my  private  num- 
ber." 

' '  Good !    Give  me  6478  Plaza. ' ' 

:;  That's  Tom's  private  number,"  explained 
Euth. 

"Come  closer,  Bull,  come  closer!  You 
mustn't  miss  this." 

"6478?  This  is  O'Brien  to  speak  to  Mr.  Bur- 
nett. 

"He's  gettin'  him,"  he  explained,  his  hand 
over  the  mouth  of  the  telephone. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Burnett?  This  is  0 'Brien.  Wanted 
to  make  my  report  on  Dutch  Joe.  Beg  pardon, 
sir.  I  won't  use  his  name  again.  Followed  our 
party  to  Smith,  Gray  &  Co.  He  bought  a  suit, 
and  changed  in  store.  Went  from  there  over 
to  the  Avenue.  Stopped  a  long  while  near  the 
Stuyvesant  house.  No,  sir,  I'm  sure.  I  know 
the  house  well.  I  couldn't  be  mistaken.  Bang 
bell  and  asked  for  Mrs.  Reid.  Positive,  sir. 
Came  away  without  leavin'  his  name.  Then 
went  to  McAlpin  Hotel.  Registered  Joseph 
Edwards,  Room  1410.  Called  up  Mrs.  Reid  on 


LIFE  285 

public  'phone.  Left  word  Mr.  Edwards  called 
her  on  important,  confidential  business.  Sure, 
sir.  I  was  in  the  next  booth  and  heard  him. 
You  may  rest  easy,  sir,  I'll  see  he  doesn't  get 
to  Mrs.  Keid.  Oh,  thank  you,  sir ! " 

He  hung  up  the  receiver  and  glanced  excitedly 
around. 

"If  that's  all  true,  and  there's  anything 
crooked  between  Burnett  and  Dutch  Joe,  he'll 
call  up  Mrs.  Eeid  before  many  minutes,"  said 
Anderson  positively. 

As  if  to  prove  his  words,  the  telephone  rang 
on  the  instant. 

4 '  There ! ' '  said  Euth,  starting  forward. 

"One  moment,  Mrs.  Eeid.  Be  good  enough  to 
have  the  servant  answer  it." 

"Jenkins!"  called  Euth. 

A  footman  appeared  from  the  hall. 

"The  'phone,  Jenkins,  please." 

"I  don't  know,  Miss,"  said  Jenkins  at  the 
'phone.  Then  turning  to  Euth,  he  said : 

"She  wants  to  know  if  you're  through  with 
the  party,  ma'am." 

Euth  nodded  her  head.  She  could  not  trust 
herself  to  speak. 

"Your  story's  interesting,  but  hardly  con- 
clusive, O'Brien,"  said  Anderson. 

The  telephone  rang  again.  Jenkins,  who  had 
just  reached  the  door,  came  back  at  a  sign  from 
Euth. 

"Eingin'  off  again,  probably,"  said  Ander- 
son, turning  away. 


286  LIFE 

"I  told  you  that "  began  Jenkins  impor- 
tantly. "Oh,  beg  pardon,  sir.  Yes,  sir, 
Mr.  Burnett,  this  is  Jenkins,  sir.  I'll  see, 
sir." 

' '  Very  well,  Jenkins. ' '  Ruth  snatched  the  re- 
ceiver from  his  hand. 

"Hello,  hello!  Oh,  hello,  Tom!  Do  I  sound 
cheerful?  I  feel  so,  for  some  reason  or  other. 
You  sound  excited.  What's  the  matter?" 
There  was  a  long  pause.  "Oh,  yes.  A  man  did 
call  up  and  left  the  name  of  Edwards.  Yes,  I 
was  at  home,  but  I  didn't  know  him,  so  of 
course  I  sent  word  I  was  out.  Really?  Thank 
you  for  warning  me.  Good-by." 

She  hung  up  the  receiver. 

"What  do  you  think  now,  Mr.  Anderson!" 

"Quick!"  said  Anderson,  without  paying  any 
attention  to  her.  "He  may  get  his  man  at  the 
McAlpin!" 

"Oh,  no,  he  won't!"  laughed  O'Brien. 
"Dutch  Joe  ain't  there  any  more.  He's  moved. 
You  didn't  think  I'd  tell  everything  I  knew,  did 
you,  Bull?" 

"Mrs.  Reid!"  said  Anderson,  turning  to  her 
and  holding  out  his  hand  frankly,  "I'm  licked! 
I've  got  to  say  something  that  I  never  thought 
I'd  have  to  say  to  anyone:  I've  helped  convict 
an  innocent  man.  I  only  hope  to  God  I  can  save 
him!" 

"I'll  go  to  the  Governor  again  the  first  thing 
in  the  morning,"  said  Mr.  MacLaren. 

"No  good.    Without  the  original  of  that  note, 


LIFE  287 

you  haven't  a  leg  to  stand  on.  They'd  only 
say,"  he  said,  turning  again  to  Ruth,  "that  it 
was  an  eleventh-hour  trick  to  save  your  hus- 
band by  perjured  testimony." 

"The  District  Attorney,  then." 

"He'd  laugh  in  your  face!" 

"What  can  we  do ?  Don 't  tell  me  that  you  are 
going  to  do  nothing,  now  that  you  say  you  be- 
lieve in  my  husband's  innocence!" 

"There's  just  one  chance:  Schmidt." 

"Schmidt?" 

"Yes.  We've  got  to  get  him.  Break  him! 
Make  him  confess!" 

"But  how?" 

He  turned  on  0  'Brien. 

"You  know  him:  what's  his  weakness — 
booze?" 

"No." 

"Dope?" 

"Never." 

"Women?" 

"Laughs  at  'em." 

"What  then?" 

"He's  hasn't  got  but  one:  gamblin'.  And, 
like  all  gamblers,  he's  superstitious." 

"He  is,  is  he?" 

"Never  turns  a  trick  except  on  lucky,  odd- 
number  days.  And  he  always  runs  the  cards 
first,  or  tries  a  fortune-teller." 

"Good!    We've  got  him!" 

"How?" 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?" 


288  LIFE 

"I'm  goin'  to  get  a  confession  out  of  Mm, 
that's  what!" 

"But  how?" 

"Through  his  superstition.  You,  O'Brien, 
get  in  touch  with  him,  and  by  Monday  get  him 
to  go  to  see  Madame  Clarice,  the  great  spirit- 
ualist and  psychic." 

0  'Brien  nodded  his  comprehension. 

"We '11  be  there!" 

"And  you,  Mrs.  Eeid,"  said  Anderson,  turn- 
ing to  Ruth,  "can  you  manage  to  get  your 
friends  together  and  have  them  attend?  Par- 
ticularly your  brother  Ralph  and  Burnett.  The 
more  the  merrier." 

"Of  course  I  will.  But  who  is  Madame 
Clarice?  I  never  heard  of  her." 

"No,  but  you  will.  I'm  goin'  to  be  her  man- 
ager. All  New  York  will  hear  of  her  by  Mon- 
day. The  detective  force  is  goin'  into  the  for- 
tune-tellin'  business,  and  goin'  in  in  style!" 

And,  with  a  boyish  laugh,  he  hurried  away. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

IT  was  Monday  night.  Ruth  was  in  a  fever 
of  expectation.  Mad  as  Anderson's  plan  for 
entrapping  Joe  seemed,  she  would  not  allow 
herself  to  doubt  for  a  moment  of  its  being  suc- 
cessful and  bringing  her  father's  death  home 
to  the  real  murderer.  But  she  acknowledged  to 
herself  that  she  was  nearing  the  end  of  her  own 
endurance. 

She  had  almost  lived  at  the  telephone  for  the 
last  few  days,  waiting  for  reports  from  Jennie 
Jones,  who  was  rounding  up  as  many  of  her 
friends  as  possible  for  the  coming  seance,  and 
from  O'Brien,  who  was  meeting  with  unex- 
pected difficulties  in  persuading  his  old  pal  to 
consult  this  new  oracle,  whose  name  shone  from 
all  the  billboards  in  New  York. 

Getting  in  touch  with  Joe  had  been  an  easy 
matter.  Dressed  in  a  new  and  flashy  suit  of 
clothes,  of  which  Tessie  strongly  disapproved, 
Dennis  had  run  into  him  in  the  corridor  of  his 
hotel,  to  their  mutual  pleasure  and  satisfaction. 
The  meeting  once  accomplished,  they  had  spent 
most  of  their  time  together,  talking  over  old 
times  and  old  adventures  up  in  Joe's  room.  But 
although  Joe  seemed  to  be  entirely  unsus- 
picious, he  betrayed  a  curious  reticence  as  to 
anything  that  he  had  "on,"  contenting  himself 


290  LIFE 

with  dark  hints  that  he  might  find  it  profitable 
to  take  a  trip  shortly. 

But  he  read  everything  in  the  papers  about 
the  state  of  Mexico,  and  frequently  voiced  the 
opinion  that  it  wasn't  a  country  for  a  dog  to 
live  in.  O'Brien  could  see  that  something  was 
troubling  him.  Finally,  by  dint  of  "playing 
up"  the  subject  of  Mexico  and  its  outlawed 
state,  he  got  Joe  to  admit  that  he  had  some 
thoughts  of  going  there  for  a  stay  of  some  dura- 
tion, if  only  he  could  satisfy  himself  that  it 
would  be  safe.  After  that,  it  was  a  compara- 
tively easy  matter  to  persuade  him  to  consult 
the  celebrated  Madame  Clarice,  the  chief 
trouble  being  that,  for  some  unexplained  reason, 
Joe  was  loath  to  go  on  the  all-important 
evening  when  his  presence  was  so  ardently 
desired. 

O'Brien,  of  course,  feared  to  be  too  insistent, 
and  it  was  only  a  short  hour  before  the  time 
set  for  the  seance  that  he  was  able  to  telephone 
Ruth  that  she  could  count  on  their  being  there. 

An  hour  before  the  seance  was  advertised  to 
begin,  Anderson,  accompanied  by  several  de- 
tectives in  plain  clothes,  arrived  to  consult  with 
Clarice  and  see  that  no  hitch  could  occur  in  his 
arrangements. 

Clarice's  "studio"  was  a  large,  bare,  Gothic 
room,  with  several  windows  of  a  bluish  glass. 
It  contained  a  number  of  chairs,  a  cabinet  on 
a  platform,  two  or  three  tables  of  various  sizes 
— in  short,  the  usual  equipment  of  people  of  her 


LIFE  291 

profession.  There  was  a  large  fireplace  with 
a  gas  log,  behind  which  red,  blue  and  green  elec- 
tric bulbs  were  concealed,  which  the  medium 
could  turn  on  at  her  pleasure — whenever  she 
wished  to  produce  a  particularly  ghastly  effect 
— from  her  place  on  the  platform. 

Madame  Clarice  was  a  large,  magnetic,  im- 
posing woman  with  an  elaborate  coiffure  of 
blond  hair  and  prominent  eyes.  She  was 
dressed  in  a  heavy,  lustrous  black  silk  gown  with 
a  long  train.  Her  bodice  was  extremely  decol- 
lete, and  she  wore  many  bracelets  and  rings, 
with  a  dog  collar  of  immense  diamonds,  which 
would  have  been  worth  a  king's  ransom  had 
they  been  real,  around  her  throat.  She  watched 
Anderson's  every  movement  with  a  coldly  sus- 
picious eye. 

''Put  two  men  at  the  door.  I  want  some  of 
you  in  here  as  cappers.  Are  the  windows  fas- 
tened?" 

"Locked  'em  myself,  dearie,"  remarked  Ma- 
dame Clarice  without  the  look  of  affection  that 
one  might  have  expected  to  accompany  the  term 
of  endearment. 

''The  chimney's  all  right.  He  ain't  no  Santy 
Claus,"  said  Anderson,  after  examining  it  for 
himself.  "Now,  remember,  this  Schmidt  is  a 
desperate  guy.  Don't  take  any  chances. 

"Well!"  he  said,  apparently  satisfied  with 
his  inspection,  "if  he  gets  out  of  here  now  he'll 
deserve  it.  How  about  it,  Clarice,  can  you  put 
it  over?" 


292  LIFE 

"Can  a  baby  cry?"  asked  Clarice  in  her  tarn. 

"Kemember,  if  you  don't !" 

"Oh,  I  know,  dearie.  If  I  don't,  you'll  have 
your  bulls  run  me  out  of  town  as  a  fakir. 
There  ain't  no  such  thing  as  justice  in  this 
world!" 

"If  you  ain't  a  fakir,  what  are  you!" 

"Oh,  I'm  one,  all  right." 

"Guess  we  understand  each  other." 

"Yes,  dear.    Both  members  of  this  club." 

"Kemember  this  is  a  desperate  case.  There's 
only  one  way  to  break  this  murderer.  Bring 
him  face  to  face  with  the  dead." 

"I  get  yer." 

"Where's  the  man  who  is  to  play  old  Stuy- 
vesantf" 

"He's  making  up  for  the  part  now." 

"I  want  to  see  him." 

"Bil-ly!  .Bil-ly!    Here!" 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  came  a  voice  from  somewhere 
in  back  of  the  cabinet. 

A  thin,  flashily  dressed  young  man  came 
slowly  down  to  Madame  Clarice.  In  one  hand 
he  carried  a  make-up  box  and  a  false  mustache, 
in  the  other  a  made-up  cravat  and  a  standing 
collar,  slightly  soiled. 

"There  he  is,"  said  Clarice  in  a  bored  tone. 

Anderson  looked  at  him  in  astonishment. 

"You  the  man  who's  goin'  to  act  Stuyvesant 
in  the  seance?  Why,  you  don't  look  anything 
like  him.  You're  too  skinny  and  too  young,  and 
your  voice  isn't  anything  like  his." 


LIFE  293 

"Just  wait  till  I  get  through  making  up. 
Here,  hold  this,  will  you?" 

Clarice  obligingly  held  the  mirror  which  he 
took  from  his  jacket  pocket.  From  another 
pocket  he  produced  a  white  wig  which  he  ad- 
justed with  a  few  deft  pats.  Propping  the 
make-up  box  on  a  chair,  he  seemed  to  Anderson, 
to  whom  he  still  offered  the  view  of  his  back, 
to  make  a  few  rapid  passes  with  the  various 
pencils  which  the  box  contained.  Another  min- 
ute to  fasten  on  the  false  mustache,  and  he 
turned  round. 

"How's  that?" 

In  all  its  deathly  pallor,  it  was  the  face  of 
Mr.  Stuyvesant  as  he  had  last  seen  it. 

"Well,  I'll  be  damned!"  said  Anderson. 

The  artist  understood  the  tribute,  and  bowed. 

"The  only  thing  is  you're  too  skinny.  You 
can't  fill  out  the  clothes." 

"Oh,  I'll  fix  that,"  said  Billy  easily. 

He  reached  under  his  arm  and  drew  out  a 
long  rubber  tubp.  Putting  the  end  in  his  mouth, 
he  blew  into  it  slowly  and  steadily,  and  his 
stomach  swelled  as  he  blew.  When  he  judged 
it  to  be  the  proper  size,  he  looked  to  Anderson 
for  approval,  raising  his  eyebrows  slightly,  so 
as  not  to  disarrange  his  make-up. 

' '  That 's  enough.    Have  you  got  the  clothes ! ' ' 

"Yes,  they're  back  there." 

"Well,  be  careful  of  'em.  It's  the  suit  Mr. 
Stuyvesant  had  on  when  he  was  murdered,  and 
it's  evidence." 


294  LIFE 

"The  ones  he  had  on  when  he  was  murdered? 
Gee!  I  don't  care  for  that.  It's  creepy!" 

"You're  playin'  a  ghost,  ain't  you?" 

"Sure.  But  there  ain't  no  call  for  bein'  so 
damned  realistic.  I  don't  like  it." 

"He'll  do,"  approved  Anderson. 

"One  of  my  best,"  said  Clarice  carelessly. 

"You've  got  everything  just  right?" 

"Sure  and  I  have,  dearie.  If  you  don't  be- 
lieve it,  take  a  look  in  there.  I've  got  my  little 
girl  and  my  little  boy,  my  widow,  my  old  man, 
two  broken-hearted  lovers — all  the  stock  spirits 
and  a  couple  of  extras.  This  is  goin'  to  be 
some  seance ! ' ' 

An  elderly  woman,  dressed  in  rusty  black, 
came  in  at  that  minute  and  took  her  place  in 
the  front  row  of  seats. 

1 '  Good  ev  'ning  to  you, ' '  she  said  meekly. 

"Here,  you,  Carrie,"  said  Clarice  with  some 
asperity,  "you  ain't  half  mournful  enough! 
And  the  last  time  when  the  lights  dimmed  you 
went  to  sleep  right  in  the  middle  of  my  best 
spiel.  I  ain't  forgot  it,  Miss.  Now  if " 

"I  know,  Clarice,"  Carrie  hastened  to  admit, 
"but  I'll  be  a  great  mourner  this1  time.  I  got 
such  a  lovely  cold  in  my  head." 

And  she  proceeded  to  illustrate  her  fitness  for 
her  role  by  sniffing  loudly  an  inordinate  number 
of  times. 

"Who's  she?" 

"Head  capper.  How  do  you  think  we'd  run 
without  cappers?" 


LIFE  295 

"And  you've  got  the  dope  on  all  the  people 
who  are  coming  and  what  they  look  like?" 

"Got  it  here,"  said  Clarice,  tapping  her  fore- 
head. And  closing  her  eyes,  she  chanted  in  a 
high,  colorless  voice,  parrot  fashion:  "Andrews 
and  wife,  old  people:  been  to  police  to  find 
daughter;  Joe  Schmidt  and  O'Brien:  advise 
against  Mexico  trouble,  and  manifestations; 
Burnett  and  Stuyvesant " 

"0.  K.  I'll  go  now,  and  come  back  when  you 
dim  down  the  lights.  Now,  remember,  it's  the 
Tombs  if  you  fail!" 

"I'll  remember,  dearie.  Nobody  forgets  the 
Tombs,  you  know.  Gee!  What  a  disposition!" 
she  said  to  herself  as  she  went  behind  the  cur- 
tains. 

A  few  people  began  to  come  straggling  in; 
among  them  Jimmy  Jones  and  Jennie. 

"Let's  get  a  front  seat,  Jimmy." 

"N-n-no;  we'll  sit  back  here,"  said  Jimmy, 
starting  for  the  rear. 

"But  I  want  to  sit  up  close,"  protested 
Jennie. 

"M-m-mebbe  you  d-d-do,  I  don't.  I'd  r-r- 
rather  have  a  seat  out  in  the — in  the  m-m-middle 
of  the  n-n-n-next  street ! ' ' 

"I'm  ashamed  of  you,  Jimmy.  You're  afraid 
of  the  spirits!" 

"I— I— I'm  not  a-afraid  of  'em.  But  I  don't 
w-w-w-want  to  k-k-kiss  'm,  either ! ' ' 

' '  Nonsense,  Jimmy.  This  is  a  perfectly  won- 
derful medium.  Euth  Keid  told  me  all  about 


296  LIFE 

her.  You've  got  to  stay  and  see  it  out.  If  you 
get  frightened,  I'll— I'll  hold  you." 

At  this  moment  the  lights,  which  had  grad- 
ually been  getting  dimmer  and  dimmer,  changed 
to  an  unpleasant  hue,  caused  by  Clarice  turn- 
ing on  the  blue  ones  from  the  fireplace.  More 
people  were  coming  in  from  time  to  time ;  among 
them  Tom  Andrews  and  Nora,  closely  followed 
by  Dutch  Joe  and  0  'Brien. 

"I'm  wonderin'  what  Father  Kelly  would 
think  of  our  comin'  here,  Tom,"  said  Nora  in 
a  troubled  tone. 

"I  can't  help  whether  the  father  would  like 
it  or  not.  He's  prayed  for  her  and  he  can't 
find  her.  And  the  police  have  looked  for  her 
and  they  can't  find  her.  And  the  place  she  said 
she  worked  never  heard  of  her.  I'll  try  any- 
thing to  get  some  news  of  her  and  get  her 
back!" 

*  *  Jimmy !  Jimmy ! ' '  said  Jennie  in  great  ex- 
citement, "isn't  that  your  old  trainer,  Mr.  An- 
drews?" 

"Sh— sh !" 

"What's  the  matter?  Why  don't  you  call 
him  over?" 

"I  don't  want  h-h-him  to  k-k-know  that  I'm 
fool  enough  to  c-c-come  here!" 

Joe  and  Dennis  had  found  seats  on  the  end 
of  the  very  back  row.  Joe  was  apparently  not 
at  all  at  ease.  He  kept  moving  about  and  clear- 
ing his  throat. 

"Say,  Kid,  this  dump's  creepy!" 


LIFE  297 

"Cheese  it,  Dutch,  you'll  worry  the  spirits." 

"I  won't  worry  them  if  they  don't  worry  me. 
Say,  Kid,  they  don't  do  nothin'  to  you,  do 
they?" 

"Who?" 

"The  spirits." 

Several  people — the  place  was  now  rapidly 
filling  up — moved  restlessly  and  glared  at  Joe 
to  keep  silence. 

"Hush!    Hush!    Hush!" 

"All  right,"  said  Joe,  "have  it  your  own 
way." 

He  kept  silent  for  nearly  a  minute. 

"Say,  Kid." 

"What?" 

"Do  you  guess  she  can  tell  us  how  it's  goin' 
to  turn  out?" 

"She  told  me  a  week  ago  I  was  goin'  to  meet 
you." 

"ShedwZF    Herself?" 

"Sure  she  did." 

"Well,  I  don't  mind  what  she  tells  me  her- 
self. But  if  she  brings  in  any  dead  ones  fo 
tell  me,  I'm  goin'  to  leave,  and  I'm  goin'  to 
leave  sudden!" 

"Sh— sh!    Hush!" 

"Gee,  this  is  a  peevish  bunch!" 

"If  you  don't  keep  quiet  they'll  give  you  your 
money  back  and  put  you  out." 

"Give  me  my  money  back!  Don't  make  me 
laugh.  This  is  New  York.  They  don't  give 
you  anything  back ! ' ' 


298  LIFE 

The  lights  began  to  grow  dimmer  and 
dimmer.  From  far  away  a  bell  struck  mourn- 
fully two  or  three  times.  There  was  a  sigh  of 
expectation  from  the  crowd.  Suddenly  a  sort 
of  ghostly  light  appeared  over  their  heads. 
There  was  a  roar  of  thunder.  Lightning  seemed 
to  flash  from  side  to  side  of  the  room.  The 
walls  shivered  and  parted,  and  for  a  moment 
dim  ghostly  figures  appeared  and  vanished  on 
the  instant.  A  table  rose  and  floated  about  the 
room  over  the  heads  of  the  audience.  From 
nowhere,  a  hair-raising  voice  slowly  demanded : 

' '  What — do — you — want — with — me ! ' ' 

"Nothin'I  Nothin' at  all,  Mister!  Honest!" 
Dutch  Joe  assured  the  spirit  in  a  choking  voice. 

The  table  dropped  back  to  its  place  in  front 
of  the  watchers.  The  lights  came  on  once  more. 
Madame  Clarice  was  seen  standing  on  the  plat- 
form. Everything  was  once  more  calm  and 
serene  with  the  exception  of  a  few  nervous 
spectators  who  displayed  unmistakable  signs  of 
having  passed  through  a  disconcerting  experi- 
ence. 

Jimmy,  with  one  foot  on  the  seat  of  his  chair 
and  the  other  thrown  over  the  back,  was  only 
prevented  from  seeking  the  seat  of  his  choice 
in  the  middle  of  the  next  street  by  Jennie's 
detaining  hands  on  his  coat  tails.  Mrs.  An- 
drews was  on  her  knees,  her  back  to  the  plat- 
form, while  Tom  gripped  his  chair  so  tightly 
that  his  hands  were  white.  Dutch  Joe  was 
lying  flat  on  the  floor,  with  a  gun  in  each  hand, 


LIFE  299 

a  circumstance  which  in  the  general  absorption 
fortunately  escaped  notice.  But  it  was  with 
considerable  difficulty  that  O'Brien  prevailed 
upon  him  to  restore  his  weapons  to  his  pocket 
and  resume  his  seat. 

When  order  seemed  to  be  completely  restored, 
Madame  Clarice  remarked  pleasantly: 

"Friends,  I  think  that  the  dear  spirits  are  in 
a  good  humor  to-night.'* 

"I-I-I'd  h-h-hate  to  s-s-see  'em  mad!"  com- 
mented Jimmy. 

The  table  began  to  waltz  slowly  about. 

"Be  quiet,  Ellen,  let  that  table  alone !"  ad- 
monished the  medium. 

"Excuse  me,  Mrs.,"  said  Joe,  "but  did  Ellen 
do  all  that  just  now?" 

"Yes,  that  was  all  little  Ellen's  work." 

"She's  some  female!"  said  Joe  sincerely. 
"Come  on,  Kid.  Don't  let's  wait  for  de  men 
spirits!" 

"Cheese!"  expostulated  O'Brien. 

At  that  moment  Burnett,  accompanied  by 
Ealph  and  Anna,  came  in. 

"Let  no  one  speak,  and  let  no  more  enter," 
commanded  the  medium.  At  once  she  assumed 
her  most  professional  manner. 

"Friends,  we're  sittin'  here  to-night  with  the 
glorious  hope  of  perhaps  welcomin'  back  to  our 
sorrowin'  midst  those  happy  faces  that  has  al- 
ready gone  over  into  the  glorious  beyond.  Now, 
friends,  will  you  kindly  sit  still,  and  all  of  you 
hold  hands  to  establish  the  psychic  circuit. 


300  LIFE 

Also,  if  you  hold  hands,  there  won't  be  no 
chance  for  one  of  you  to  get  crazy  an'  try  to 
kiss  a  spook.  Spooks  wasn't  made  to  be  kissed. 
An'  there's  no  tellin'  what  might  happen. 
Gawd  knows  it's  hard  enough  to  be  a  medium 
without  people  tryin'  to  kiss  your  spooks !  I'm 
about  to  give  a  seance  made  up  of  clairvoyance, 
physical  manifestations  and  materializations. 
And  kindly  remember  that  I'm  in  a  trance  and 
don't  know  anything  about  what  I  may  say  or 
do.  I'm  only  the  poor  human  funnel  through 
which  the  spirits  flow.  Now,  we'll  start  the 
seance  with  our  Spirit  Hymn." 

She  began  to  sing  in  a  high,  shrill  voice.  All 
the  cappers,  who  were  of  course  familiar  with 
the  doggerel,  joined  in.  Soon  everybody  was 
singing — Dutch  Joe  loudest  of  all. 

"We  are  waitin', 
We  are  waitin', 
We  are  waitin'  just  now; 
Just  now  we  are  waitin', 
We  are  waitin'  just  now. 

Show  your  faces, 

Show  your  faces, 

Show  your  faces  just  now! 

Just  now  show  your  faces, 

Show  your  faces  just  now!  " 

With  a  dramatic  gesture,  she  threw  open  the 
doors  of  the  cabinet. 

"You  see,  dear  friends,  it's  empty." 

"Here  I  am!"  piped  a  childish  voice. 

"That  voice!"  exclaimed  the  capper  in  wid- 
ow's weeds. 


LIFE  301 

"And  who  are  you?"  inquired  the  medium. 

"I'm  little  Billy." 

"And  what  do  you  want,  little  Billy?" 

"I  don't  like  to  tell  you!"  said  little  Billy 
bashfully. 

"Please  tell  us." 

"No." 

"You  must." 

"All  right.  I  want  to  raise  hell,  and  I'm  go- 
ing to!" 

Instantly  the  room  became  black  again,  and 
again  the  thunder  rolled  and  the  lightning 
flashed.  The  walls  seemed  to  part  and  come  to- 
gether again,  there  was  a  red  glare  followed  by 
a  ghostly  light,  and  a  smell  of  burning  sulphur. 
Out  from  behind  the  fireplace  danced  a  troop 
of  figures,  carrying  pitchforks  whose  phos- 
phorus-covered bodies  gleamed  in  the  ghastly 
light.  The  table  danced  once  more.  Tam- 
bourines and  banjos  were  heard  playing  from 
the  cabinet.  There  was  a  sound  of  mocking, 
childish  laughter. 

And  then,  just  as  suddenly,  the  dancing  fig- 
ures disappeared,  the  tables  became  stationary, 
all  sounds  ceased,  and  the  lights  came  on  again. 
With  a  flourish  Madame  Clarice  threw  open  the 
cabinet  and  showed  it  to  be  empty. 

"Come  on,  Bo,  I'm  goin'!"  said  Joe,  getting 
to  his  feet  with  an  air  of  decision.  "If  women 
can  shake  this  damned  house,  and  kids  open  the 
gates  of  hell,  I'll  be  damned  if  I  wait  for  the 
men.  This  ain't  no  place  for  yours  truly." 


302  LIFE 

"Cut  it  out,  Joe.  They  ain't  hurtin'  you. 
Wait,  we'll  ask  her  now." 

"You  must  stop  talkin',  or  you'll  break  the 
circle,"  admonished  Clarice.  "I  feel  a  feelin' 
of  clairvoyance  stealin'  over  me!"  she  went  on. 
"I  hope  what  I  say  won't  offend  no  gent  nor 
lady.  Eemember,  I'm  only  the  poor  human  fun- 
nel through  which  the  spirits  flow!" 

After  passing  her  hands  a  number  of  times 
across  her  forehead,  her  whole  figure  became 
rigid.  There  was  a  moment's  pause.  Then,  in 
a  far-away,  dead  voice,  she  began : 

"There  is  a  man  and  a  woman  here  with  us 
to-night,  an  old  man  and  an  old  woman  who  is 
in  trouble.  He  is  a  strong  man,  and  be  has 
some  thin'  to  do  with  boats.  When  I  see  him, 
I  see  men  rowin'.  His  first  name  is  Tom.  I'll 
give  his  last  name,  if  he  wants  me  to." 

"I  ain't  never  been  ashamed  of  my  name, 
ma'am,"  said  honest  Tom. 

"You  are  lookin'  for  your  daughter,  Mister." 

"Yes,  ma'am:  that's  what  her  mother  an'  me 
come  to  New  York  for." 

"She  is  not  as  she  was  when  she  first  left 
you.  She  is  in  great  danger.  She  has  another 
name.  Look  on  the  eighth  floor  of  a  big,  white 
apartment  house  on  Madison  Avenue  between 
Fortieth  and  Fiftieth  Streets." 

Ralph  uttered  a  slight  exclamation,  but  was 
checked  by  the  glance  that  Burnett  gave  in  the 
direction  of  his  wife. 

"What  do  you  make  of  it?"  whispered  Ralph. 


LIFE  303 

"I'm  not  sure  yet.    W:ut  a  bit." 

*  *  Thank  you,  ma  'am.  We  're  goin '  now, ' '  said 
Tom.  And  supporting  his  sobbing  wife,  he  left 
the  room. 

"Join  hands  again,  and  close  the  psychic  cir- 
cle!" commanded  Madame  Clarice. 

"The  current  is  gettin'  stronger!  I  can  feel 
it,  I  can  feel  it!"  she  said  in  a  sort  of  ecstasy. 
"There  is  a  spirit  strugglin'  to  make  hisself 
known!" 

"There's  somethin'  in  this,  Kid,"  whispered 
Joe.  "She  got  the  dope  right  on  that  old  guy. 
He  was  real.  He  wasn't  no  capper." 

"Hush!" 

"It  is  a  new  spirit  that  has  not  yet  learned 
how  to  communicate.  How  he  struggles!  I 
feel  it  here  in  my  heart !  It  has  a  wrong  that 
must  be  set  right.  What ! ' '  Her  voice  took  on 
a  tone  of  horror.  There  was  a  long  pause, 
while  she  appeared  to  listen  intently. 

"It  is  the  spirit  of  one  who  was  murdered! 
What  name?  What?  Can  you  understand? 
Can't  you  speak  through  me?"  Another  long 
pause. 

"Can  you  make  yourself  known  by  rapping, 
then?  Eap  three  times  for  'yes,'  once  for  'no.' 
Will  that  do?" 

Three  loud,  solemn  raps  were  heard. 

"Were  you  murdered?" 

Again  the  three  raps. 

"By  a  woman?" 

The  spirit  denied  this  in  one  vigorous  rap. 


304  LIFE 

"A  man?" 

Three  raps. 

"  Has  lie  been  convicted  ? ' ' 

Three  raps. 

"Sentenced?" 

Three  raps. 

"To  imprisonment?" 

One  rap. 

"Then  he  has  been  sentenced  to  death!" 

Three  raps. 

" Is  he  guilty?" 

One  rap. 

"Then  he  is  innocent?" 

Three  raps. 

"Have  you  come  to  save  him?" 

Three  raps. 

"Can  you  tell  us  the  name  you  bore  in  this 
life?" 

,  There  was  a  long  and  impressive  pause. 
Then,  in  a  voice  which  was  a  marvel  of  imita- 
tion, came  the  reply. 

"I  was  William  Van  Eennsselaer  Stuy- 
vesant ! ' ' 

"My  father!"  said  Ralph  in  a  terrified  shriek. 

"Good  God!"  said  Burnett  under  his  breath. 

"That's  him!  That's  the  old  man's  voice," 
came  Joe's  horrified  confirmation. 

But  Burnett  had  recovered  his  nerve.  "This 
must  stop !  I  protest  against  this  humbug.  I'll 
call  the  police!" 

' '  Sit  down,  Burnett ! ' '  commanded  Anderson. 
In  the  darkness,  unseen  by  anyone,  he  had  taken 


LIFE  305 

a  chair  immediately  behind  Burnett,  where  he 
could  watch  Joe 's  every  movement. 

"Mr.  Stuyvesant,  where  is  the  real  mur- 
derer!" moaned  the  medium,  as  if  she  were 
about  to  faint  under  the  strain  to  which  she  was 
subjecting  herself. 

"He  is  here!"  came  the  awful  voice  from  the 
cabinet. 

1 '  Can  you  show  yourself  and  confront  him  I ' ' 

In  answer  to  this  question,  the  thunder 
crashed  once  more  and  all  the  lights  went  out, 
leaving  the  hall  in  utter  blackness.  In  another 
moment,  two  greenish-white  lights  appeared. 
One  hovered  above  the  terrified  assembly  until 
it  hung  over  the  unconscious  head  of  Dutch 
Joe,  for  the  moment  fairly  paralyzed  with  su- 
perstitious terror.  The  other  lit  up  the  doors 
of  the  cabinet,  which  opened  to  disclose  the 
counterfeit  presentment  of  the  late  Mr.  Stuy- 
vesant, wearing  the  clothes  he  had  worn  on  the 
night  of  the  murder.  A  ghastly  crimson  stain 
could  be  seen  on  his  left  side  in  the  region  of 
the  heart. 

Ealph's  voice  rattled  in  his  throat. 

" It  is  my  father!" 

"The  clothes  he  wore  when "  whispered 

Burnett,  half  to  himself. 

"God!  The  old  man  himself!  Just  as  he 
looked ! ' '  shrieked  Joe. 

"Point  out  the  murderer!"  commanded 
Clarice. 

Slowly  that  dreadful  arm  came  up,  the  fore- 


306  LIFE 

finger  of  the  hand  extended.  For  a  dreadful 
moment  the  eyes  seemed  to  search  the  room. 
Then,  suddenly,  the  arm  shot  out  straight,  the 
finger  pointing  to  the  cowering  Joe. 

1  'It's  a  lie!  a  lie!  Ididn'tdoit!  Iwasthere! 
I  saw  it!  But  I  didn't  do  it!  The  real  mur- 
derer is " 

With  a  rush,  Anderson  and  two  other  detec- 
tives made  for  him. 

"  Joseph  Schmidt,  I  arrest  you  for  the  mur- 
der of  William  Van  Eennsselaer  Stuyvesant!" 
shouted  Anderson. 

Amid  the  screams  and  cries  that  pierced  the 
darkness  which  had  once  more  fallen  could  be 
heard  the  sounds  of  a  struggle,  and  then  the 
noise  of  crashing  glass. 

' '  Lights !    Lights ! ' '  yelled  Anderson. 

The  lights  came  on  to  show  a  scene  of  the 
wildest  confusion  and  the  shattered  glass  of 
one  of  the  rear  windows. 

"My  God,  he's  escaped!"  yelled  Anderson. 


CHAPTER  XX 

IT  was  five  o'clock  Christmas  morning. 
Along  the  streets  leading  to  Saint  Patrick's 
people  were  hurrying  to  Mass.  In  front  of  the 
Cathedral,  and  standing  on  the  steps  near  the 
door,  were  grouped  a  number  of  beggars  and 
fakirs  making  the  most  of  the  latitude  allowed 
them  on  this  day,  hoping  to  cajole  money  from 
the  tide  of  worshipers  whose  hearts  were  pre- 
sumably softened  at  this  season. 

Either  because  they  had  exhausted  the  field, 
or  because  they  judged  it  would  be  more  profita- 
ble to  work  the  side  streets ;  meeting  the  crowds 
before  they  reached  the  church,  they  had  nearly 
all  moved  off  when  Dutch  Joe,  wearing  a  long, 
black  overcoat  and  a  cap  well  pulled  over  his 
eyes,  came  round  the  corner  so  suddenly  that 
he  nearly  collided  with  an  old  beggar  woman 
who  cursed  him  with  fervor. 

"Here!  Don't  yell  before  you're  hurt!"  re- 
monstrated Joe,  looking  fearfully  around.  He 
reached  in  his  pocket  and  took  out  a  half  dollar. 

"I'm  lookin'  for  a  swell  guy  with  a  smooth 
face  and  a  fur  coat.  Seen  him?" 

"No,  I  ain't  seen  nobody  like  him.  I'll  watch 
out  if  you  want  me  to,"  she  said,  her  eyes  fast- 
ened greedily  on  the  money. 

"No,  never  mind.    I'll  take  a  little  walk  my- 

307 


308  LIFE 

self  an'  come  back.  Guess  I'm  early.  Here 
you  are,  though,  for  luck."  He  dropped  the 
coin  into  her  outstretched  hand  and  hurried 
away.  The  woman  went  on. 

Around  the  corner  opposite  from  the  one  Joe 
had  taken  came  two  young  men  who  showed  the 
effects  of  a  Christmas  Eve  too  hilariously  spent. 
The  elder,  although  he  showed  that  he  had  been 
drinking,  was  by  no  means  as  far  gone  as  his 
friend,  whom  he  was  apparently  piloting  to  his 
home.  The  task  seemed  to  present  new  difficul- 
ties as  they  arrived  in  front  of  the  Cathedral 
door.  For  the  younger  seemed  to  be  struck  for 
the  first  time  with  the  beauty  of  the  fa§ade 
which  he  wished  to  examine  at  his  leisure.  He 
was  finally  persuaded  to  continue  his  journey, 
and  they  went  on  down  Fifty-second  Street, 
pausing  every  few  steps  to  argue  some  matter 
which  seemed  to  have  something  to  do  with  the 
wisdom  of  "having  just  one  more." 

From  time  to  time  a  woman,  shivering  in 
spite  of  the  long  fur  coat  that  completely  en- 
veloped her  figure,  peered  out  from  one  of 
the  swinging  doors.  Burnett,  on  his  way  up 
the  steps,  caused  her  to  give  a  little  cry  of 
fright. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?"  he  demanded. 

"You  know." 

"What!" 

"To  keep  you  to  your  resolution,  and  to  help 
you  if  I  can." 

"I  can't  do  it,  Grace,  I  can't!" 


LIFE  309 

"You  must.  If  they  get  him,  what  will  he  do? 
Confess  everything  he  knows." 

"But  he's  clever.    He  might  get  away." 

"Even  so:  so  long  as  he  lives,  he'll  hold  you 
in  the  hollow  of  his  hand." 

"I  know  that.    But " 

"Where's  your  nerve,  Tom?" 

"It's  an  awful  thing  to  do.  Here,  in  the 
shadow  of  a  church.  Listen!  There  goes  the 
organ.  And  before  they  have  finished,  I'll 
have "  He  broke  off,  shuddering  violently. 

"  It 's  his  life  or  yours,  Tom.    Think  of  that. » ' 

"I  know." 

"I'll  be  in  the  runabout,  waiting  on  Fifty- 
second  Street.  If  you  are  pushed " 

She  made  a  warning  sign,  and  started  rap- 
idly down  the  steps  as  Dutch  Joe  came  into 
view.  Burnett  crouched  in  the  shadow  of  the 
great  doors. 

In  front  of  the  steps,  Joe  paused  a  moment, 
looking  about  him  with  a  frown.  He  made  a 
move  as  if  to  go  away  again,  when  Burnett 
stepped  forward. 

"I've  been  waiting  for  you." 

"Got  the  stuff?"  he  started  up  to  meet  him. 

"Yes,  but  come  on  down  and  we'll  walk  up  a 
side  street." 

He  waited  until  Joe  turned  and  started  down. 
When  he  was  a  step  below  him,  he  drew  a  slung- 
shot  from  his  pocket  and,  raising  it  high  in  the 
air,  brought  it  down  on  Joe's  head  twice. 

With  a  muffled  gasp,  Joe  pitched  forward, 


310  LIFE 

and  diving  headlong  down  the  steps,  lay  huddled 
at  the  bottom. 

Quick  as  a  flash,  Burnett  was  beside  him. 
Tearing  open  his  coat,  he  searched  rapidly  for 
the  coveted  paper.  Yes,  it  was  there.  With  a 
hasty  glance  to  assure  himself  that  it  was  the 
original  and  not  merely  a  copy,  without  an- 
other look  at  his  victim,  who  lay  where  he  had 
fallen,  he  dashed  along  the  Avenue  to  Fifty- 
second  Street.  At  the  far  end  of  the  block  was 
Grace's  runabout.  He  could  see  her  gazing 
anxiously  from  the  window.  The  only  other 
human  beings  in  sight  were  the  two  young  men 
who  were  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  pave- 
ment still  arguing  the  matter  of  another  drink. 

"Get  out  of  the  way,  will  you?" 

"Wacha  want?  The  whole  st-street?"  de- 
manded the  drunker  of  the  two  aggressively. 
He  made  a  snatch  at  Burnett's  coat  and  caught 
him  by  the  lapel.  With  an  oath,  Burnett  freed 
himself  with  a  jerk,  toppling  over  the  drunkard 
as  he  dashed  on.  His  friend  divided  his  atten- 
tion between  helping  his  companion,  who  was 
now  weeping  in  a  maudlin  manner,  and  cursing 
Burnett  with  ardor  and  fluency. 

Grace  threw  open  the  door,  and  as  he  sprang 
in  the  runabout  started  off. 

Joe  had  rolled  over  so  that  he  was  now  lying 
on  his  face.  He  moaned  piteously.  Occasion- 
ally he  made  a  feeble  effort  to  call  for  help. 
But  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  an  hour  no  one 
chanced  to  pass  by  or  hear  him. 


LIFE  311 

Finally,  one  of  the  vergers  of  the  Cathedral 
opened  the  door  and  came  out  onto  the  steps. 
Seeing  him  lying  there,  he  at  first  thought  that 
he  had  only  a  drunken  man  to  deal  with. 

"Get  along  out  of  here!"  he  said.  "You 
ought  to  be  ashamed,  lyin'  drunk  at  the  very 
door  of  the  church  on  Christmas  mornin'." 

In  trying  to  raise  his  head,  his  hand  came 
in  contact  with  something  wet  and  sticky.  It 
was  blood.  With  an  exclamation  of  alarm,  he 
ran  back  into  the  church.  He  returned  in  a 
second  with  a  number  of  men.  In  that  magic 
manner,  which  is  the  secret  of  all  great  cities, 
a  crowd  had  already  sprung  up  from  nowhere. 
While  some  ran  in  search  of  a  policeman,  others 
bent  over  the  prostrate  body  in  a  vain  attempt 
to  be  of  some  assistance.  Others,  again,  started 
for  a  doctor. 

' '  Somebody  ought  to  ring  for  the  ambulance," 
volunteered  one. 

1  c Here !    Let  me  through,    I  'm  a  doctor. ' ' 

A  man  with  graying  hair  pushed  his  way 
through  the  crowd  and  bent  down  over  Joe. 

"Well?"  asked  an  authoritative  voice  which 
made  the  policeman  look  up  quickly. 

"Just  a  chance — if  we  can  get  him  on  the 
operating  table  right  away." 

"You  must  save  him,  you  must!"  said  Ander- 
son, for  it  was  he.  "An  innocent  man's  life  de- 
pends on  it. ' ' 

"Make  way,  make  way  for  Father  Kelly!" 
cried  a  voice. 


312  LIFE 

A  priest,  still  in  his  robes,  was  coming  down 
the  steps. 

"He  is  still  alive?" 

"Yes,  Father." 

"Father,"  said  Anderson,  stepping  forward, 
"I  am  Chief  of  Detectives  Anderson.  This  man 
is  a  criminal  with  an  innocent  man's  life  in  his 
hands.  Let  the  doctor  revive  him  and  get  a 
confession  first.  Then " 

"The  Church,  my  son,"  said  the  priest 
gently,  "thinks  only  of  the  good  of  this  dying 
sinner's  soul." 

"But " 

Joe  gave  another  moan,  and  opening  his  eyes, 
struggled  to  speak. 

"You  are  dying,  my  son;  have  you  anything 
to  confess?"  He  lifted  him  in  his  arms. 

' '  I — am — innocent ' '  Here  he  choked,  but 

with  a  last  effort  managed  to  go  on  in  a  voice 
that  was  only  a  hoarse  whisper.  The  doctor, 
the  priest  and  Anderson  bent  over  him.  "  Stuy- 
vesant  murder. — I  saw — it. — It — was " 

His  head  fell  over  on  one  side. 

"It's  all  over,"  said  the  doctor. 

It  was  New  Year's  Eve,  and  Warden  Mc- 
Carthy of  Sing  Sing  prison  had  been  enter- 
taining some  friends  at  dinner.  It  would  have 
greatly  surprised  some  of  the  people  in  the  set 
in  which  Ruth  moved,  if  they  could  have  looked 
in  upon  the  Warden  and  his  guests,  to  discover 
Jennie  and  Jimmy  Jones  at  his  hospitable 


LIFE  313 

board.  Anderson,  too,  was  of  the  number.  But 
that  was  hardly  so  surprising,  as  he  and  the 
genial  Warden  had  known  each  other  for  a 
number  of  years. 

The  Warden's  dining-room  was  large  and 
spacious  and  handsomely  furnished.  At  one 
end  was  a  curtained  doorway  which  led  to  the 
other  rooms  comprising  the  private  apartments. 
At  the  other  end,  in  grim  contrast,  was  a  heavily 
barred  door  which  led  into  the  prison  itself. 
That,  and  the  view  of  high  stone  walls  to  be 
had  from  the  large  bay  window,  was  the  only 
thing  that  suggested  that  the  guests  might  not 
be  in  any  private  house,  until  one  happened  to 
glance  at  the  servants  who  were  waiting  on 
the  table,  who  all  wore  the  prison  uniform. 

The  dessert  had  been  removed,  and  the  guests, 
some  of  them  with  their  chairs  a  little  pushed 
back,  were  discussing  their  host's  coffee  and 
liqueurs. 

"Try  one  of  those  cigars,  Anderson,"  said 
the  host  genially.  "I  have  them  made  specially 
for  me." 

Anderson  took  one. 

"Wonderful!  Where  do  you  get  them?"  he 
asked,  after  puffing  appreciatively  at  it  for  a 
moment. 

"Oh!"  laughed  the  Warden,  "a  chap  who 
boarded  here  with  me  a  couple  of  years  after- 
wards went  to  Havana.  He  made  good,  and 
now  he  sends  them  to  me  regularly." 

"Pretty  soft  for  him,  isn't  it?"  asked  Ander- 


314  LIFE 

son  of  the  table  generally.  "Nothin'  to  do  but 
run  this  State  Boarding  House  at  a  good  salary, 
with  no  chance  of  loss.  And  when  they  leave, 
the  boarders  send  him  presents!  Pretty  soft!" 

"As  Chief  of  Detectives  you  have  rather  a 
nice  life  yourself,"  McCarthy  reminded  him. 

"A  nice  life !  Do  you  think  a  boarding-house 
runner  has  a  nice  life?  That's  what  I  am.  I 
work  twenty-four  hours  a  day  to  keep  your 
boarding-house  full  for  you.  And  it's  some  job, 
believe  me.  Nobody  wants  to  come ! ' ' 

"Don't  they  ever  get  out?"  asked  Jennie. 

"From  Sing  Sing!  Not  a  chance,  Mrs. 
Jones.  No  one  has  gotten  away  since  I've  been 
here,  and  I  don't  think  anyone  will.  Why,  it 
would  ruin  me  reputation  as  a  boar  din '-house 
keeper  entirely!" 

"What  would  you  do  if  one  tried  to  get 
away?"  pursued  Jennie. 

"Shoot  him  like  a  dog.  That's  all  he'd  de- 
serve. ' ' 

Jennie  changed  color.  But  her  glance  never 
wavered. 

' '  That  seems  a  terrible  thing  to  do  to  a  man 
just  because  he  wants  liberty." 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Jones,  nowadays,  when  a 
man's  convicted  you  may  be  sure  he's  guilty. 
He's  gettin'  only  what's  comin'  to  him." 

"The  husband  of  a  woman  I  used  to  know 
very  slightly  is  here  now.  Somehow,  I  have 
never  been  able  to  believe  in  his  guilt." 

"What  was  he  accused  of?" 


UFE  315 

"  Murder. " 

"Who  is  he?" 

" William  Reid." 

"Mrs.  Jones,  there  have  been  men  I  felt  sorry 
for  when  they  went  to  the  chair;  but  I  firmly 
believe  he's  as  guilty  as  hell!" 

"I  guess  there's  no  chance  of  his  escaping, 
then,"  put  in  Anderson. 

"I  wish  he'd  only  try,"  said  the  Warden 
grimly.  "I'd  be  glad  to  take  a  shot  at  him 
myself!" 

"Why  are  you  so  bitter,  Mac?  I  convicted 
the  fellow  myself,  and  I  don't  feel  that  way." 

"Well,  you  see,  I  happened  to  meet  young 
Stuyvesant  and  his  partner,  Burnett.  They  told 
me  a  lot  about  Reid — stuff  they  couldn't  get 
in  at  the  trial — and  it  showed  me  what  kind  of 
a  fellow  he  was." 

"I  should  think,  Mrs.  McCarthy,  you'd  be 
afraid  to  stay  here  with  so  many  desperate 
criminals.  Don't  you  ever  get  frightened?" 
asked  one  of  the  women. 

"The  idea  never  enters  my  head!"  protested 
Mrs.  McCarthy  stoutly.  "You  see,  I  have  them 
all  about  me  as  servants." 

"Yes,"  said  Anderson.  "I  have  already  rec- 
ognized several  old  friends  whom  I  induced  to 
come  here." 

"Then  the  servant  problem  doesn't  worry 
you,  Mrs.  McCarthy?"  said  Jennie. 

"Why,  I  don't  know  what  I'd  ever  do  if  Mr. 
McCarthy  had  to  give  up  this  place,"  laughed 


316  LIFE 

Mrs.  McCarthy.  "I  couldn't  think  of  anything 
less  than  a  bank  teller  for  butler !" 

"You  don't  limit  your  house  servants  to 
bank  tellers,  do  you?"  asked  another  of  the 
guests. 

"Oh,  no!  I'm  not  that  particular.  Harding, 
here" — she  pointed  to  the  most  dignified  of  the 
serving  men — "was  superintendent  of  a  Sun- 
day school  when  they  caught  him  with  his  fifth 
wife." 

"Fifth  wife!"  exclaimed  the  women  in 
horror. 

"I — I — I — say!    Wasn't  one  e-e-e-enough  ? " 

"Jimmy!" 

"Each  one  was  too  much,  sir.  That's  why  I 
had  to  try  five, ' '  replied  the  ex-superintendent. 

"Old  Bill,  there,"  said  Mrs.  McCarthy,  point- 
ing to  an  old  man  with  white  hair,  "is  the  fa- 
vorite. He 's  been  in  prison  almost  fifty  years. ' ' 

"Fifty  years!" 

"Ask  him  about  it.  He's  a  privileged  char- 
acter." 

"And  you've  been  a  prisoner  fifty  years?" 
asked  Jennie  kindly. 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  said  the  old  man,  almost  with 
an  air  of  pride,  "comin'  March." 

"Don't  you  want  to  be  free?" 

"No  man  ever  quits  wantin'  to  be  free, 
ma'am.  But  I  don't  hardly  know  what  I'd  do 
if  I  was!" 

"You've  never  been  out  since  you  came 
here?" 


LIFE  317 

"Twict.  They  took  me  to  the  station  to  see 
the  trains  go  by.  And  onct  I  was  away  two 
days.  But  they  caught  me  before  I  ever 
got  to  New  York.  That  was  forty  years 
ago." 

"New  York  has  changed  a  lot  in  fifty  years !" 

"It  must  have,  ma'am.  They  tell  me  it's 
built  clean  up  to  Thirty-fourth  Street.  May 
I  give  you  some  more  coffee,  ma'am?" 

"Thank  you.  What  did  they  put  you  in  here 
for,  Bill!" 

"I  slipped  poison  in  my  old  woman's  coffee, 
ma'am.  She  bothered  me  talkin'  too  much!" 

Jennie  hastily  replaced  her  cup  untasted. 

"I  think  we'd  better  leave  the  gentlemen  to 
their  cigars,"  suggested  Mrs.  McCarthy. 

In  the  slight  confusion  of  picking  up  gloves 
and  moving  back  chairs,  Jennie  managed  to 
whisper  to  Anderson : 

"If  I  had  any  qualms  before,  I've  lost  them 
now — after  hearing  him  talk." 

"Easy!"  cautioned  Anderson. 

* '  What  time  is  it  ?    She  ought  to  be  here ! ' ' 

A  guard  came  in  and  crossed  over  to  the 
Warden,  carrying  a  salver  on  which  was  a  card 
with  some  writing  on  it. 

The  Warden  looked  at  it  angrily  through  his 
eyeglass. 

"Damned  impertinence,  inter  ruptin'  me  at 
me  dinner!  I've  half  a  notion  not  to  see  her!" 

"Who  is  it,  Dennis?"  asked  his  wife. 

"That  fellow  Keid's  wife!    Comin'  here  and 


318  LIFE 

interruptin'  me  at  me  dinner,  wantin'  to  see 
her  husband ! ' ' 

"Why  don't  you  let  her  see  him,  Mac?" 
asked  Anderson  carelessly. 

"Sure,  I'll  let  her  see  him — before  he  dies. 
There's  plenty  of  time." 

Ruth  came  quietly  into  the  room,  following 
the  guard.  She  bowed  coldly  to  Anderson,  but 
took  no  notice  of  either  Jennie  or  Jimmy. 

"Can't  you  let  me  see  my  husband,  Mr.  Mc- 
Carthy? I  mean  see  him  in  your  office  or — or 
here?" 

"Mrs.  Reid,  I  appreciate  how  you  feel.  But 
do  you  suppose  I'm  goin'  to  bring  a  condemned 
murderer  out  of  the  prison  to  see  you?  Non- 
sense! I  told  your  lawyer,  and  I  told  your 
friend  Mr.  MacLaren  that,  when  they  made  the 
request. ' ' 

"Yes,  I  know  you  did.  They  tried  to  keep 
me  from  coming  to-day,  but "  For  a  mo- 
ment she  could  not  go  on.  She  buried  her  face 
in  her  handkerchief. 

"If  you  were  to  be  allowed  to  walk  through 
the  corridor  of  the  Death  House,  and  stop  a  mo- 
ment outside  his  cell " 

"And  he  inside  a  steel  grating,  and  I  outside 
another  steel  grating — with  six  feet  of  open 
space  between  us ! " 

"You  could  see  him  for  a  moment." 

"Could  I  touch  him?  Could  I  come  close  to 
him?  Could  he  take  me  in  his  arms?  Oh,  Mr. 
McCarthy!  You  wouldn't  condemn  me  to  go 


LIFE  319 

through  life  without  even  the  memory  of  his 
kiss !  Oh,  you  won  't !  You  can 't !  You  haven 't 
the  right  to  refuse  me!" 

"You  can  see  him  in  the  prison  to-morrow 
night — the  night  before  he  dies,"  said  Mc- 
Carthy coldly. 

Euth  turned  passionately  to  Mrs.  McCarthy. 

"Won't  you  plead  for  me!" 

"Dennis,  dear!  She's  so  young,  and  she'll 
never  see  him  again.  Couldn't " 

"Don't,  Nora,  don't." 

Euth's  manner  changed.  A  new  light  of  de- 
termination shone  in  her  eyes. 

"Then  you  won't  let  me  see  him  here  and 
now?" 

"No." 

"You  could  if  you  would?" 

"Yes,  but  I  won't!    Now,  that  ends  it!" 

"But  it  doesn't  end  it!  Here!"  She  pulled 
a  paper  from  her  muff.  ' '  From  the  Governor ! ' ' 

"Why  didn't  you  say,  in  the  first  place,  that 
you  had  this  order!"  asked  McCarthy  angrily. 

' '  Because  I  wanted  to  see  what  kind  of  a  man 
you  were!" 

McCarthy's  face  turned  scarlet.  He  turned 
to  the  guard. 

"Tell  the  Head  Keeper  to  bring  William 
Eeid,  well  guarded,  over  here  to  see  his  wife  for 
the  last  time,  by  order  of  the  Governor.  Nora, 
you'd  better  ask  our  guests  to  go  into  the  other 
room  with  you.  Not  you,  Anderson;  just  wait 
a  minute,  will  you!" 


320  LIFE 

Drawing  Anderson  down  to  the  fireplace,  he 
missed  seeing  the  significant  glance  which 
Jennie  and  Ruth  exchanged  before  the  former 
left  the  room. 

"I  tell  you,  Bull,  it's  an  outrage !  Her  makin' 
me  look  like  a  boob,  and  before  all  those  people, 
too !  I've  a  great  mind  to  call  up  the  Governor 
and  tell  him  what  I  think  of  his  givin'  an  order 
over  my  head,"  stormed  the  mortified  Warden. 

"Oh,  better  go  slow,"  soothed  Anderson. 

"Well,  I'll  take  it  out  on  them!" 

"How?" 

"I'm  goin'  to  sit  right  here  in  this  chair,  let 
'em  talk  in  front  of  me,  and  walk  him  out 
again ! ' ' 

"I  wouldn't  do  that.   It'll  put  you  in  bad." 

"I  don't  see  that." 

* '  She  must  have  a  pretty  good  pull  to  get  that 
order  out  of  the  Governor.  She'll  get  the  story 
printed — there  are  papers  that  don't  like  you, 
remember — 'Cruel  Warden  Insults  Wife  at 
Farewell  Interview!'  How  would  you  like  to 
see  that?" 

"That's  so." 

"You  got  a  chance  to  be  decent  and  not  lose 
anything."  The  telephone  rang  violently. 
"Maybe  that's  the  Governor  calling  now." 

The  Warden  hurried  over  to  the  'phone. 

"Hello!  Yes,  this  is  McCarthy.  Oh,  Barnes 
and  Co.,  New  York.  Well,  what  are  you  callin' 
me  up  at  this  time  of  day  for?  What's  that! 
Five  thousand  dollars !  Say,  wait  a  minute.  I 


LIFE  321 

can't  talk  to  you  on  this  'phone.  Wait!  I'll 
call  you  up  in  three  minutes." 

"If  it's  somethin'  important,  Mac,"  sug- 
gested Anderson,  "why  don't  you  leave  this  to 
me.  I'll  watch  him." 

"Thanks,  I'll  take  you!  I've  just  got  to  talk 
to  that  fellow  right  away!" 

"Guess  so.  Business  won't  wait  even  on  the 
Warden  of  Sing  Sing ! ' ' 

"When  Eeid  comes  in,"  said  McCarthy,  turn- 
ing to  a  guard,  "take  your  orders  from  Mr. 
Anderson." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"You  can  see  your  husband,  Mrs.  Reid,  for 
five  minutes  only.  I  was  goin'  to  give  you  an 
hour  to-morrow  night.  But  you  went  over  my 
head.  So  you  can  just  consider  this  your 
good-by!" 

He  hurried  out,  followed  by  the  keeper. 

Euth  turned  to  Anderson  with  outstretched 
hands. 

"Thank  God!  Thank  God!"  She  broke  into 
a  little  hysterical  laugh.  "Mr.  MacLaren  timed 
it  just  right !  He  called  him  just  in  time ! ' ' 

Anderson  caught  her  by  the  arm  and  shook 
her. 

"Pull  yourself  together!  No  nonsense,  now! 
Remember,  this  is  the  test." 

* '  Yes — yes !  I  know.  I  will ! ' '  She  was  mak- 
ing a  fight  to  retain  her  self-control. 

* '  Is  everything  ready  1 ' ' 

"Yes,  yes!     O'Brien  is  waiting  in  the  car 


322  LIFE 

with  the  engine  going.  The  motor-boat  and  the 
yacht  are  ready." 

"Good!  Kemember  it's  all  a  question  of 
nerve.  The  luck  is  changing.  The  Governor's 
giving  you  that  order  showed  it!" 

Again  she  had  to  fight  her  rising  hysteria. 

"The  Governor  gave  me  no  order!" 

"Then  how  did  you  get  it!" 

"I  stole  the  paper  from  his  desk  at  our  last 
interview — a  moment  when  his  back  was  turned. 
The  body  of  the  letter  is  typewritten.  I  forged 
his  name!  Ha,  ha,  ha!  I'd  do  it  again!  I'd 
do  more  to  save  him!" 

"You're  a  wonder!"  said  Anderson  in  un- 
feigned admiration. 

Two  guards,  armed  with  rifles,  came  in  and 
took  their  station  on  the  inside  of  the  door. 
Anderson  looked  from  one  to  the  other. 

"What's  the  ideal" 

"We're  going  to  stay  here  during  the  talk." 

"Oh,  are  you?  Not  while  I'm  in  authority. 
Do  you  think  I'm  goin'  to  have  you  men  stand 
there  and  watch  a  woman  sufferin '  I  Not  much ! 
You  stand  outside  the  door,  and  don't  come  in 
except  at  my  orders.  You  know  me?" 

"Yes,  Mr.  Anderson." 

They  went  out  as  silently  as  they  had  come. 
The  door  opened  once  more,  and  accompanied  by 
four  other  guards,  also  armed,  Bill  Eeid  came 
across  the  threshold.  At  the  sight  of  him,  so 
thin,  so  haggard,  with  the  dreadful  prison  pallor 
replacing  the  glow  of  health  she  had  always 


LIFE  323 

seen  in  his  face,  Euth  staggered  as  if  she  were 
about  to  fall.  She  held  out  her  arms  with  a  low 
moan.  Quick  as  a  thought,  Anderson  got  be- 
hind him  and  closed  the  door  in  the  face  of  the 
waiting  guards. 

"Ruth!"    All  his  heart  was  in  that  cry. 

In  a  moment  they  were  in  each  other's  arms. 

4 'My  wife!    My  little  wife !" 

"Hold  me  tight — tighter — so  close,  darling, 
that  you  hurt !  I  want  to  feel  your  arms  crush- 
ing me!" 

"We've  such  a  little  time,  and  so  much  to  say, 
darling!" 

"Let  me  look  at  you!  Oh,  my  poor  sweet- 
heart ! ' '  Once  more  she  buried  her  face  on  his 
breast. 

"Mrs.  Eeid!  Mrs.  Eeid!  Eemember! 
There's  not  an  instant  to  lose!"  Anderson  re- 
minded her. 

"You!"  said  Eeid,  recognizing  him  for  the 
first  time.  ' '  What  right  have  you  here  ?  Ar en 't 
you  satisfied  with  sending  me  to  the  chair  that 
you  must  embitter  my  last " 

"No,  no,  dear!  He  did  help  convict  you. 
But  now  he's  here  to  save  you." 

"I  don't  understand." 

"You  don't  have  to!"  snapped  Anderson. 
"Get  off  that  coat!" 

As  Eeid  began  to  take  off  his  coat  in  a  dazed 
fashion,  Anderson  ripped  off  his  collar  and  tie 
and  the  dicky  he  was  wearing. 

' '  Here !    Special  for  the  occasion ! ' ' 


324  LIFE 

He  pulled  Eeid  behind  a  screen  just  as  Jennie 
came  softly  in  at  the  door  leading  to  the  front 
of  the  apartment. 

"  Every  thing's  quiet,"  she  whispered. 
"Where  are  they?" 

Without  trusting  herself  to  answer,  Ruth 
jerked  her  head  toward  the  screen. 

In  another  second  Anderson  and  Eeid  came 
out.  They  had  changed  clothes  even  to  their 
shoes. 

"I  don't  know  why  you're  doing  this  for 
me " 

"I'm  not.    I'm  doin' it  for  myself!" 

"What  next?" 

"Go  with  your  wife — that's  all  you've  got  to 
do." 

"There's  a  motor  waiting,  and  a  boat  in  the 
Hudson.  We're  going  to  get  out  of  the  country 
to-night." 

"Here!" 

Anderson  snatched  an  overcoat  and  a  slouch 
hat  from  behind  the  screen,  and  began  hustling 
Keid  into  the  coat. 

"Pull  the  hat  down  over  your  eyes,  man. 
She's  fainting  after  the  good-by,  an'  you're 
takin'her  to  the  machine.  Get  the  idea?  When 
you  get  in,  the  rest  is  up  to  you." 

"And  you?  It's  your  job.  You've  thrown 
that  away." 

"Not  if  you  work  it  right.  Here!"  He 
picked  a  wine  bottle  from  the  table. 

"Hit  me  over  the  head!" 


LIFE  325 

"Why,  I  couldn't " 

"Hit,  you  damn  fool!  And  don't  be  all  night 
about  it!" 

But  the  blow  that  Eeid  gave  him,  while  it 
cut  his  head  open,  was  not  enough  to  satisfy 
him. 

"You  couldn't  smash  a  mosquito!"  he  grum- 
bled. "Here,  I'll  bet  you  can  do  it!" 

He  handed  another  bottle  to  Ruth.  ' '  Remem- 
ber, it  was  me  that  got  you  in  all  this 
mess!" 

Ruth  struck  him  with  all  her  strength,  and 
he  went  reeling  to  the  floor.  Womanlike,  she 
covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 

"You've  no  time  to  be  sorry  now,"  Jennie  re- 
minded her.  "Take  her  other  arm,  Bill." 

As  she  opened  the  door,  she  said  in  a  voice 
sufficiently  loud  to  be  heard  in  the  other  rooms : 

"Yes,  Mr.  Anderson,  I'll  help  you  out  with 
her." 

As  the  door  closed  behind  them,  Anderson 
sat  up,  put  his  hand  to  his  head,  grinned  when 
he  saw  the  blood,  and  laid  back. 

The  five  minutes  being  up,  the  guard  came  in 
at  the  other  door.  Anderson's  head  was  turned 
so  that  he  could  not  see  his  face. 

"The  poor  boob's  fainted!"  he  said,  as  he 
kicked  at  his  feet. 

"Come  on,  Reid,  get  up!" 

As  the  supposed  Reid  did  not  move,  he  bent 
over  him. 

"Good    God!    It's    Mr.   Anderson!     Help! 


326  LIFE 

Help!  Ring  the  bell!  Catch  him!  Reid's  es- 
caped I" 

He  rushed  for  the  door  and  threw  it  open. 
From  outside  came  the  honk  of  an  automobile 
starting  away  at  high  speed.  McCarthy  at  the 
head  of  some  guards,  followed  by  some  of  the 
guests,  came  rushing  into  the  room. 

"What  is  it?" 

"Reid:  he's  knocked  out  Mr.  Anderson  and 
got  away  in  that  automobile!" 

"Damn  you!"  With  a  blow  of  his  fist,  Mc- 
Carthy knocked  him  down.  ' '  That's  what  comes 
of  trusting  a  woman!" 

He  rushed  over,  grabbed  and  raised  Ander- 
son, who  remained  limp  and  unconscious  in  his 
arms. 

"  Get  out  my  machine.  Eing  the  bell.  Sound 
the  alarm.  Telephone  all  up  and  down  the 
road.  They  can't  have  got  far.  We'll  catch 
them.  Damn  him!  He  won't  be  electrocuted! 
I'll  blow  his  head  off  myself!" 

"There's  the  car,  sir."  Again  the  honk  of 
an  automobile  was  heard. 

McCarthy  rushed  behind  the  screen. 

"The  damned  murderin'  thief!  He's  gone 
off  with  my  hat  and  coat ! ' ' 

He  tore  out  of  the  room,  followed  by  the 
prison  guards,  to  the  sound  of  the  clanging  bell, 
the  discharge  of  guns  and  other  sounds  of  the 
wildest  excitement. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

IT  was  the  evening  of  the  next  day.  Even 
the  rouge  which  she  had  put  on  more  heavily 
than  ever  before  could  not  hide  the  haggard 
look  of  Grace's  face.  She  was  sitting  in  her 
boudoir,  dressed  in  a  delicate  white  gown  edged 
and  trimmer)  with  fur.  From  time  to  time  she 
left  her  chair  to  alter  the  arrangement  of  the 
gewgaws  on  a  low  table  that  stood  in  the  win- 
dow, or  to  fuss  with  the  flowers  in  the  bowl  on 
the  chimney-piece. 

She  was  perfectly  aware  that  she  was  show- 
ing signs  of  extreme  nervousness.  But  who 
would  not,  she  asked  herself,  with  Bull  Ander- 
son sitting  in  the  same  room,  putting  one 
through  a  mild  form  of  " Third  Degree"! 

There  he  was,  and  there  he  had  been  for  the 
past  hour,  seeming  to  sit  even  more  erect  than 
usual  in  his  chair.  And  the  questions !  Some- 
times he  asked  them  slowly  and  distinctly,  pon- 
dering over  her  replies  so  long  that  she  felt  that 
she  must  scream  at  the  top  of  her  voice  if  he 
kept  silent  another  second.  Again  he  fired  them 
at  her  so  rapidly  that  her  brain  fairly  reeled 
in  the  effort  to  answer  without  betraying  some- 
thing. For  who  could  tell  what  seemingly  in- 
nocent question  masked  a  pitfall  of  the  most 
fatal  kind? 

327 


328  LIFE 

"On  my  word,  Mr.  Anderson,  I've  told  you 
everything  I  know, '  '  she  said,  more  to  break  an 
unusually  long  silence  that  had  fallen  between 
them  than  with  any  hope  of  bringing  his  visit  to 
an  end. 

" You'd  better  tell  the  truth,  Grace  Andrews, 
if  you  don't  want  your  father  and  mother  to 
come  here  and  find  out  all  about  you,"  he  said 
sternly. 

"My  God,  no!  Not  that!  Not  that!  They 
think  I  have  a  position  here  at  a  good  salary. 
And  they're  so  proud  of  my  success  and  the 
presents  I  am  able  to  give  them.  It  would 
break  my  mother's  heart  to  know  the  truth 
about  me.  I  couldn't  stand  it,  Mr.  Anderson, 
I  just  couldn't!" 

"What  were  you  doing  at  the  Cathedral 
Christmas  morning?" 

"I've  already  told  you,  and  I  tell  you  again 
— I  went  to  early  Mass." 

"And  was  it  in  front  of  the  Cathedral  that 
you  met  Burnett?" 

"I  tell  you  I  didn't  meet  him!  On  my  word, 
I  didn't!  By  everything  I  hold  sacred,  I 
didn't!" 

"You  are  positive  Burnett  was  not  there." 

"Positive." 

"How  can  you  be  sure?" 

"I— I Well,  Mr.  Burnett  spent  the  night 

here.  I  left  him  here  asleep. ' ' 

"While  you  went  to  Mass?" 

"Yes." 


LIFE  329 

"And  it  is  Ralph  Stuyvesant  who  supports 
you?" 

She  nodded  sulkily. 

"Where  is  Burnett  now?" 

"I  haven't  the  slightest  idea." 

"When  did  you  see  him  last?" 

"Yesterday.  But  what  are  you  driving  at? 
Surely  you  don't  connect  Mr.  Burnett  in  any 
way  with  the  murder  of  that  man  in  front  of 
the  Cathedral!" 

"I  haven't  said  what  I  connect  Burnett  with. 
But  there  are  a  good  many  questions  he'll  have 
to  answer." 

"Oh,  he'll  answer  them  quickly  enough!" 
And  then,  suddenly  flaring  up:  "It's  easy  to 
see  what's  the  matter  with  you,  Bull  Anderson! 
You  let  that  murderer  Eeid  escape,  and  you're 
in  bad.  So  you're  trying  to  kick  up  a  hulla- 
baloo over  something  else  to  divert  attention 
from  your  failure.  That's  what's  the  matter 
with  you!  Only,  I  warn  you;  you'd  better  be 
careful.  You're  fooling  with  a  big  man  when 
you  fool  with  Tom  Burnett.  You're  likely  to 
make  things  worse  for  yourself  instead  of 
better." 

"If  Burnett  comes  here  to-night,"  said  An- 
derson, rising  and  paying  not  the  slightest  at- 
tention to  her  tirade,  "tell  him  I  want  to  see 
him." 

"I'll  tell  him."  She  crossed  the  room  and 
rang  a  bell.  "Marie,"  she  said  to  the  maid, 
"lock  the  door  after  Mr.  Anderson." 


330  LIFE 

Anderson  grinned  as  he  went  out. 

For  a  moment  after  she  had  seen  his  broad 
back  disappear,  Grace  stood  rigid.  But  when 
the  welcome  sound  of  the  slamming  of  the 
elevator  door  reached  her  ears  she  darted 
across  the  room  to  the  door  leading  to  her  bed- 
room. 

"Tom!  Tom!"  she  called.  "It's  all  right. 
He's  gone!" 

A  key  turned  in  the  lock  and  Burnett  came 
into  the  room.  At  the  sight  of  him  Grace,  with 
an  heroic  effort,  pulled  herself  together.  She 
saw  plainly  that  the  slightest  signs  of  nervous- 
ness on  her  part  would  shatter  his  last  remnant 
of  self-control.  He  was  in  evening  dress, 
but  his  unusual  pallor  and  the  twitching  of 
his  face  showed  that  he  was  near  the  break- 
ing point.  She  must  be  strong  for  them 
both. 

"You  heard?" 

"Every  word." 

"Well?" 

"They're  after  me!  By  God,  they're  after 
me!"  He  sank  down  on  the  couch  and  buried 
his  face  in  his  hands. 

"They  could  never  convict  you.  They  can't 
even  seriously  suspect  you  of  killing  a  cheap 
thing  like  Dutch  Joe!" 

"That's  not  it.  Don't  you  see?  That's  just 
incidental.  They  've  demanded  an  accounting  of 
Ruth's  money.  They've  put  special  accountants 
on  the  books  at  the  bank.  That  means  the 


LIFE  331 

game's  nearly  up.  They're  working  back — 
working  back  to  Stuyvesant!" 

"But  Raid's  under  sentence  of  death  for  that. 
Even  if  he  has  escaped,  they're  after  him  Hot 
and  heavy." 

"You  don't  suppose  a  man  gets  away  from 
the  Death  House  in  Sing  Sing  without  police 
assistance?" 

The  telephone  bell  jangled  sharply. 

"What's  that?" 

"Just  the  'phone." 

"Be  careful!    It  may  be  some  trick." 

Grace  nodded  reassuringly. 

"Yes!"  she  said,  the  receiver  at  her  ear. 
"What?  An  old  man  and  an  old  woman  asking 
for  this  apartment?  Want  to  know  if  my  name 
is  Grace  Andrews?  Of  course  not.  I  never 
heard  of  a  Grace  Andrews." 

"Don't  you  see?  A  trick,  a  police  trick. 
They've  got  your  parents  after  us.  Send  them 
away!  Send  them  away,  I  tell  you!" 

"I  tell  you  I  don't  know  any  Grace  Andrews. 
Send  them  away.  What's  that?  They've  been 
here  a  number  of  times  asking  for  the  same 
person.  Well,  I  can't  help  that." 

"You  see!" 

"Oh,  it's  terrible!  It  isn't  as  if  you  meant 
to  kill  old  Stuyvesant!" 

"No,  but  he's  dead,  and  somebody  has  to  pay. 
I  thought  I  could  escape  paying  by  putting  it 
off  on  Eeid.  And  then  Schmidt  came — and  now 
he's  dead,  too.  And  Eeid's  escaped.  It's  just 


332  LIFE 

piling  up  and  piling  up,  and  somebody  '11  have 
to  pay  for  the  total.  God!  I  won't!  I 
can't!" 

His  voice  rose  to  a  scream.  She  went  over 
and  shook  him  by  the  shoulders. 

"Pull  yourself  together,  Tom.  You  mustn't 
give  way.  You're  all  wrong,  I  tell  you.  You 
can  escape,  and — and  make  a  new  start. ' ' 

"Escape?  A  new  start?  What  chance  is 
there?  And  suppose  I  do,  what  then?  To  be 
hounded  for  the  rest  of  my  life.  Never  to  know 
a  moment's  peace,  never  a  night's  quiet  rest. 
But,  waking  and  sleeping,  always  waiting  for 
that  hand  to  fall  on  my  shoulder  and  that  voice 
to  say:  'Thomas  Burnett,  I  arrest  you  for  the 

murder '  No,  no!  I  can't  stand  it,  I  tell 

you.  I'd  rather " 

"You'd  rather  what?  Give  yourself  up,  or 
kill  yourself  ?  Be  a  coward  and  a  quitter  ?  And 
I  thought  you  were  a  man!" 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"I  wish  I  were  a  man  to  show  you!" 

"What  would  you  do?" 

"Do?  I'd  be  a  man  and  not  a  whining  cow- 
ard! I'd  fight,  that's  what  I'd  do!" 

"And  how?" 

"I'd  put  on  a  bold  front.  I'd  act  as  though 
nothing  had  happened.  If  you  are  afraid  of 
discovery  here,  get  away.  But  don't  run  away. 
You  have  interests  in  many  countries.  Visit 
some  of  them.  But  take  plenty  of  money  with 
you." 


LIFE  333 

"And  be  extradited  when  they  want  me!" 

"Why  not  Mexico?  You  couldn't  very  well 
be  extradited  from  there,  as  things  are  now. 
And  Stuyvesant  and  Company  own  valuable 
mines  there,  besides  their  oil  properties.  There 
you'd  be  a  little  king  with  your  own  people 
to  fight  for  you.  And  if  it  comes  out  you're 
there,  no  one  could  accuse  you  of  running 
away." 

"Go  openly?" 

"No.  Go  secretly,  and  take  all  the  money  you 
can  lay  your  hands  on  with  you. ' ' 

"I  see." 

"You  can  get  the  money?" 

"Yes.  I've  put  two  hundred  thousand  of  the 
bank's  where  I  can  get  it." 

"Very  well,  then." 

"I'll  do  it!  I'll  get  away  to-night.  You've 
put  new  heart  into  me.  I'll  make  a  break  for 
El  Paso.  There's  a  man  there,  a  man  named 
Eao.  He  knows  Northern  Mexico  like  a  book. 
I'll  be  safe  with  him.  I'll  write  you  under  the 
name  of  Barnes,  telling  you  how  you  can  com- 
municate with  me.  Then,  when  I'm  safe,  I'll 
send  for  you. ' ' 

"And  I'll  come.  Oh,  how  gladly  I  will  come, 
and  leave  all  this — and  him!" 

She  was  in  his  arms,  murmuring  farewells 
and  terms  of  endearment,  when  the  door  flew 
open  and  Ralph,  with  every  mark  of  having 
been  drinking,  lurched  into  the  room. 

"So  that's  the  game,  is  it?"  he  sneered. 


334  LIFE 

Burnett  had  so  long  completely  dominated 
the  weaker  man  that  it  was  second  nature  to  do 
so  now. 

"What  game!  What  do  you  mean?"  he  de- 
manded indignantly. 

"What  sort  of  a  fool  do  you  think  I  am?" 
retorted  Ralph  with  unwonted  spirit.  "She's 
my  girl  —  mine.  She's  been  mine  for  nearly 
two  years  !  And  you  !  I  thought  you  were  my 
best  friend.  And  now  I  come  and  find  you  in 
each  other's  arms!  Damn  you,  I'll  show  you!" 

He  whipped  out  a  gun  and  advanced  threat- 
eningly on  Burnett. 

It  was  curious  how,  at  the  bare  sight  of  a  gun, 
all  of  Burnett's  nerve  returned,  together  with 
the  instinct  to  protect  the  woman  at  his 
side. 

*  '  Shoot,  if  you  think  it  will  do  you  any  good  !  '  ' 
he  bluffed.  The  muzzle  of  the  gun  was  cold 
against  his  chest.  "If  she  is  unfaithful  to  you 
—  if  we  both  are  unfaithful  —  shooting  either  or 
both  of  us  will  do  a  lot  of  good,  won't  it?  And 
being  shot  is  an  easy  finish  compared  to  yours, 
if  you  kill  us!" 

"I'll  kill  myself,  too!" 

"No,  you  won't,  Ealph.  You're  not  that 
kind!" 


"I've  been  your  best  friend.  But  for  me, 
you'd  be  in  prison  for  forgery.  But  if  you  think 
I've  wronged  you,  shoot  me.  I  won't  defend 
myself!" 


LIFE  335 

"I  wouldn't  have  believed  it,"  said  Ralph 
whimperingly.  The  gun  wavered  in  his 
hand. 

"Why  shouldn't  you  believe  it?"  demanded 
Grace  with  sudden  rage.  "You  don't  suppose  I 
can  care  for  you  when " 

"When  you've  misjudged  her  so  cruelly,  so 
shamefully!"  put  in  Burnett  hastily. 

"Misjudged  her!    Haven't  I  eyes!" 

"You  saw  me  telling  her  good-by.  I'm  going 
away — for  a  long  time,  maybe — to-night." 

"Do  you  expect  me  to  believe  that?" 

"Believe  it  or  not.    I'm  going." 

"That's  true,  Ralph,  Gospel  truth.  I  was  so 
sorry  to  see  Tom  go.  That  was  all.  He 's  been 
our  best  friend." 

"You're  going?  You  mean  you're  running 
away?" 

"Yes.  I'm  running  to  cover.  And  if  you 
aren't  a  damned  fool  you'll  take  some  means  to 
protect  yourself,  too.  Or  they'll  get  us  both  for 
trying  to  railroad  an  innocent  man  to  the 
chair!" 

"I  never  knew  he-  was  innocent!"  said  Ralph 
in  wonder. 

"No?" 

"I  didn't.  I  tell  you  I  didn't.  I  believed  all 
along  he  was  guilty." 

"Well,  I  knew  all  the  time  he  was  innocent. 
I  tried  to  railroad  him,  and  I  failed. ' ' 

'  *  You  —  knew  —  it  —  all— the— time  ? ' '  said 
Ralph  slowly.  "How  did  you  know  it?  You 


336  LIFE 

were  in  the  room  just  before Then 

you "  He  reached  for  the  gun  again,  which 

was  lying  on  the  table. 

4 'No,  no,  no!  Not  that,  Ealph!  I  swear  be- 
fore God,  not  that!  Dutch  Joe  was  the  man 
who  did  it.  And  now  he's  dead." 

"You've  sworn  to  too  many  lies  already," 
screamed  Ealph,  roused  to  a  real  rage  at  the 
thought  that  he  might  be  in  the  presence  of  his 
father's  murderer. 

' '  Oh,  your  shooting  bluff ! ' '  sneered  Burnett. 

"Shoot  you?  No.  I'm  going  to  take  you  and 
turn  you  over  to  the  police." 

"Very  well,  do.  But  the  minute  I'm  arrested, 
there  will  be  a  counter  charge  against  you.  For 
forgery,  for  perjury  and  for  embezzlement. 
Come  on!" 

"Don't!"  said  Ealph,  sinking  into  a  chair. 

"If  I  murdered  your  father,  why  did  I  do  it! 
That's  what  the  court  will  ask.  And  where 
will  you  stand?  A  son  who  forged  his  father's 
name,  who  stole  nearly  a  million  dollars  from 
him,  and  then,  when  that  father  was  dead, 
perjured  himself  on  the  witness  stand  to 
fasten  the  crime  on  an  innocent  man,  and  that 
man  his  sister's  husband!  Come  on!  Let's 
go  to  the  police.  We'll  see  who's  locked 
up!" 

"I  can't!  I  can't!"  sobbed  Ealph.  "I  can't 
face  the  shame  and  disgrace !  I  loathe  myself, 
but  I  can't  face  it  all!" 

For  a  long  time  Burnett  stood  looking  down 


LIFE  337 

on  him,  with  a  smile  of  contempt.  Then  he  laid 
his  hand  on  the  bowed  head. 

"There's  no  danger  to  you,  Ralph,  if  you 
keep  quiet.  All  this  will  blow  over.  MacLaren 
will  help  you,  for  your  father's  sake,  and  I'll 
be  back  when  the  excitement  is  over. 
Good-by!" 

"Good-by!"  said  Ealph  huskily,  without 
looking  up. 

"Go  out  through  my  bedroom  and  the  serv- 
ant's entrance,"  whispered  Grace.  "It  will  be 
safer. ' ' 

They  exchanged  a  last,  lingering  look  of  fare- 
well. For  a  moment  she  turned  away.  She 
heard  the  door  close,  without  looking  around. 
He  was  gone.  When  would  she  see  him  again! 
On  one  thing  her  mind  was  made  up :  she  would 
break  with  Ealph  here  and  now.  She  had  plenty 
of  money  to  tide  her  over  until  Burnett  should 
send  for  her. 

"Grace!"  Ralph  raised  his  head  and  looked 
at  her  appealingly.  "Grace,  I  was  wrong,  but 
I  was  half  mad.  Won't  you  forgive  me  and 
tell  me  you  still  love  me?" 

"No!" 

"Then  you  haven't  really  ever  loved 
me!" 

"Do  you  think  that  any  woman  could  love 
you!  A  coward,  a  thing  like  you!" 

"Then  you  do  love  him!" 

"Yes.  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?" 
she  asked  insolently. 


338  LIFE 

"Do!  I'm  going  to  kick  you  out  of  this! 
Throw  you  back  into  the  street ! ' ' 

She  drew  herself  up  to  her  full  height  and 
laughed  at  him. 

"And  do  you  really  think  I'd  have  to  stay 
long  in  the  street?  Look  at  me !  Why,  you  little 
fool,  I  hated  you  from  the  beginning.  I'll  be 
only  too  glad  to  go !" 

"You  will,  damn  you!" 

He  threw  himself  upon  her,  and  catching  her 
by  the  throat,  hurled  her  down  on  the  couch, 
still  keeping  his  strangling  clutch. 

"Help!    Help!    Help!" 

In  response  to  her  cry,  the  door  burst  open, 
and  Tom  Andrews,  followed  by  Nora,  rushed 
in.  With  a  bound  he  had  caught  Ralph  by  the 
back  of  the  neck,  and,  shaking  him  like  a  rat, 
threw  him  half  across  the  room. 

"You  were  a  cowardly  little  rat  at  college, 
and  you  haven't  changed.  Fighting  women  is 
about  all  you're  fit  for!  I  think  the  best  thing 
I  can  do  is " 

"The  best  thing  you  can  do,"  snarled  Ralph, 
struggling  to  his  feet,  "is  to  get  out  of  my 
house.  And  take  your  wife  and  that  trollop, 
your  daughter,  with  you." 

"Your  house!" 

"Yes!  My  house.  And  take  the  woman  I'm 
through  with.  I  took  her  when  she  had  noth- 
ing. I  gave  her  everything  she  wanted — motors 
and  sables,  an  apartment  and  servants,  and 
money.  But  she  couldn't  be  faithful  even  when 


LIFE  339 

she  was  paid  for  it!  So  I'm  kicking  her  out! 
Take  her  back  to  the  kitchen  I  took  her  from!" 

With  a  furious  gesture  Andrews  started  for 
him. 

' '  Tom !  Stop ! ' '  Nora  threw  herself  between 
them. 

The  door  slammed.    Ealph  was  gone. 

At  the  sound  of  the  slamming  door,  all  of 
the  fight  seemed  to  go  out  of  the  old  man.  With- 
out so  much  as  a  look  in  his  daughter's  direc- 
tion, he  turned  to  his  wife. 

"Come,  Mother.  I  guess  that's  all  we  can  do 
here!" 

"Tom!  She's  our  daughter,  our  Grade. 
You  ain't  goin'  to  leave  her  here!" 

"I  guess  she's  showed  she's  able  to  take  car* 
of  herself.  She  don 't  want  us ! " 

"Tom!" 

He  didn't  seem  to  hear  her.  He  was  fum- 
bling with  the  watch  and  chain  in  his  waistcoat. 

"I  didn't  know  where  the  money  came  from 
that  bought  it.  I  couldn't  wear  it  now!"  He 
laid  the  watch  and  chain  on  the  table.  ' l  Mother, 
give  me  that  gold-handled  umbrella!"  He 
threw  it  on  the  table  beside  the  watch.  "We're 
clean  people,  your  mother  and  me,  and  we  don't 
want  things  that  were  bought  with  money  made 
that  way !  Come,  Mother ! ' ' 

A  deep  shudder  shook  Grace  from  head  to 
foot  as  she  heard  the  umbrella  strike  the  table. 
But  she  had  a  last  flash  of  defiance. 

"Made  that  way!    You  were  glad  enough  to 


340  LIFE 

take  the  things,  I  notice!  Your  own  common 
sense  must  have  told  you  that  a  girl  couldn't 
make  presents  like  that  out  of  a  beggarly  sal- 
ary! But  now  that  I'm  found  out,  ex- 
posed  " 

Both  doors  were  thrown  open.  From  the  one 
leading  to  her  bedroom  came  Anderson  and  Bur- 
nett, handcuffed  to  a  policeman.  From  the 
other  came  Kalph,  an  officer  holding  him  by  the 
arm,  and  two  men  she  had  never  seen.  With 
staring  eyes  she  looked  from  one  to  the  other. 

"Can  you  identify  this  man?"  demanded  An- 
derson of  one  of  the  strange  men. 
••  "I  can,  sir.  On  Christmas  morning,  my 
friend  and  I  were  on  our  way  home,  after — 
after  a  rather  jolly  night.  We  were  going  down 
Fifty-second  Street,  when  that  man  came  run- 
ning along.  He  cursed  us  because  we  were  in 
his  way.  He  knocked  my  friend  down.  I  was 
so  angry  that  I  ran  part  of  the  way  after  him. 
I  saw  him  get  into  the  runabout  whose  number 
I  gave  you.  A  woman  was  waiting  for  him.  I 
saw  her  lean  out  of  the  window. ' ' 

"Is  that  woman  here?" 

"Yes,  sir.    There  she  is." 

He  pointed  an  accusing  finger  at  Grace. 

"That  is  all,  thank  you.  I  have  traced  the 
number  of  the  runabout  to  you,  Grace  Andrews. 
Have  you  anything  to  say?" 

Grace  essayed  to  speak,  but  no  sound  came 
from  her  parched  lips. 

"I'll  break  you  for  this  outrage!"  blustered 


LIFE  341 

Burnett  with  a  last  desperate  effort.  "What 
do  you  expect  to  charge  me  with,  even  if  that 
drunken  fool's  word  is  to  be  believed!" 

"For  the  moment,"  said  Anderson,  "I  expect 
to  charge  you  with  the  murder  of  Dutch  Joe 
Schmidt.  And  unless  I  am  mistaken  in  my  man, 
by  the  time  I  have  examined  that  sniveling  little 
shrimp  over  there" — pointing  to  Ralph — "I 
expect  to  charge  you  with  the  murder  of  Wil- 
liam Van  Bennsselaer  Stuyvesant !  Officer,  take 
both  these  men  to  the  station  house.  And  watch 
them  both  carefully.  They  must  not  be  allowed 
to  communicate  with  each  other." 

At  a  sign  from  him,  the  officers  hustled  their 
prisoners  out  of  the  room,  and  Grace  and  her 
parents  were  once  more  alone. 

' '  Grace ! ' '    Nora  held  out  her  motherly  arms. 

With  a  cry,  Grace  tottered  forward  and  sank 
sobbing  at  her  mother 's  feet. 


CHAPTER  XXn 

THEY  had  been  riding  since  before  dawn,  and 
they  paused  on  a  little  rise  of  land  to  see  the 
sunrise — the  wonderful  sunrise  of  Mexico. 

He  had  been  tormenting  himself,  as  he  some- 
times did,  with  the  thought  of  all  she  was  de- 
priving herself  of,  living  this  fugitive  life  with 
him,  far  from  the  haunts  of  men,  away  from 
all  the  luxuries  that  she  had  always  known. 
And  she,  for  the  thousandth  time,  was  repeat- 
ing that  never  before  had  she  known  what  hap- 
piness meant. 

As  they  sat  their  horses,  side  by  side,  watch- 
ing for  the  first  glow,  there  came  a  voice  halloo- 
ing from  the  valley  below,  and  the  sound  of 
horses'  hoofs  ringing  on  the  road  they  them- 
selves had  just  climbed. 

"Hel-lo!    Hel-lo!   Hel-lo!   Bill  Reid,  hel-lo!" 

For  a  moment  all  the  warm  color  left  Euth's 
face. 

"Darling!    It  sounds  like " 

"Like  Dennis'  voice!"  he  finished  for  her. 

Trembling,  fearing,  hoping  they  scarcely 
knew  what,  they  waited,  her  arm  protectingly 
over  his  shoulder. 

Straining  their  eyes,  they  peered  down  the 
winding  road.  Presently  two  figures  came  in 
sight.  As  they  appeared  around  the  turn  of 

342 


LIFE  343 

the  road,  one  of  them  snatched  off  his  hat  and 
waved  it  over  his  head.  It  was  O'Brien,  and 
with  him  a  Mexican  guide  whom  they  had  sev- 
eral times  employed. 

"Hel-lo,  Bill  Reid!  Good  news!  A  pardon 
from  the  Governor ! ' ' 

A  pardon  from  the  Governor!  Ruth  burst 
into  a  passion  of  tears. 

A  half  hour  later,  when  O'Brien  had  told 
them  all  the  news,  and  how  Mr.  MacLaren  had 
sent  him  down  after  them,  they  rode  off  a  little 
way  together,  their  arms  entwined. 

Ruth  sat  looking  off  into  the  East,  still  glori- 
ous with  the  light  of  the  new  day. 

"Never,  beloved,  if  we  live  to  be  very,  very 
old,  will  we  see  a  sunrise  that  means  what  this 
has  meant  to  us!" 


THE  END 


"The  Books  You  Like  to  Read 
at  the  Price  You  Like  to  Pay" 


There  Are  Two  Sides 
to  Everything — 

— induding  the  wrapper  which  covcre 
every  Grosser  &  Dunlap  book.  When 
you  feel  in  the  mood  for  a  good  ro- 
mance, refer  to  the  carefully  selected  list 
of  modern  fiction  comprising  most  of 
the  successes  by  prominent  writers  of 
the  day  which  is  printed  on  the  back  of 
every  Girosset  &  Dunlap  book  wrapper. 

You  will  find  more  than  five  hundred 
titles  to  choose  from — books  for  every 
mood  and  every  taste  and  every  pocket- 
book. 

Don't  forget  the  other  sukt  but  in  case 
the  wrapper  is  lost,  write  to  the  publishers 
for  a  complete  catalog. 


There  is  a  Grosset  &  Dunlap  Book 
for  every  mood  and  for  every  taste 


PETER  B.  KYNE'S  NOVELS 

May  be  bad  wherever  books  are  srtd.     Ask  for  Cresset  and  Dmrtap's  list 

THE  ENCHANTED  KILL 

A  gorgeoos  story  wkfa  a  thrilling  mystery  and  a  beautiful  girL 
NEVER  THE  TWAIN   SHALL  MEET 

A  romance  of  California  and  the  South  Seas. 

GAPPY  RICKS  RETIRES 


Gappy  retires,  but  the  romance  of  the  sea  and  business,  keep 
calling  him  back,  and  he  comes  back  strong. 

THE  PRIDE  OF  PALQMAR 

When  two  strong  men  clash  and  the  under-dog  has  Irish  blood 
in  his  veins  —  there's  a  tale  that  Kyne  can  tell  ! 

KINDRED  OF  THE  DUST 

Donald  McKay,  son  of  Hector  McKay,  millionaire  lumber  king, 
falls  in  love  with  "  Nan  of  the  sawdust  pile,"  a  charming  girl  who 
has  been  ostracized  by  her  townsfolk. 

THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  GIANTS 

The  fight  of  the  Cardigans,  father  and  son,  to  hold  the  Valley 
of  the  Giants  against  treachery. 

CAPPY  RICKS 

Cappy  Ricks  gave  Matt  Peasley  the  acid  test  because  he  knew 
h  was  good  for  his  souL 

WEBSTER:  MAN'S  MAN 

A  man  and  a  woman  hailing  from  the  "  States,"  met  up  with  a 
revolution  while  in  Central  America.  Adventures  and  excitement 
came  so  thick  and  fast  that  their  love  affair  had  to  wait  for  a  lull 

in  the  game. 

CAPTAIN  SCRAGGS 

This  sea  yam  recounts  the  adventures  of  three  rapscallion  sea- 
men. 


THE  LONG  CHANCE 

Hartey  P.  Heonage  ie  ihe  best  gambler,  the  best  and  worst 
man  of  San  Pasqual  and  of  lovely  Donna. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,    PUBLISHERS,  NEW  YORK 


MARGARET  PEDLER'S  NOVELS 

May  be  had  wherever  books  are  sold.     Ask  for  Grosset  &  Duniap's  list 

TO-MORROWS  TANGLE 

The  game  of  love  is  fraught  with  danger.     To  win  in  the  finest  sense,  it 
must  be  played  fairly. 

RED  ASHES 

A  gripping  story  of  a  doctor  who  failed  in  a  crucial  operation— and  had 
only  himself  to  blame.     Could  the  woman  he  loved  forgive  him? 

THE  BARBARIAN  LOVER 

|      A  love  story  based  on  the  creed  that  the  only  important  things  between 
birth  and  death  are  the  courage  to  face  life  and  the  love  to  sweeten  it 

THE  MOON  OUT  OF  REACH 

Nan  Davenant's  problem  is  one  that  many  a  girl  has  faced — her  own 
happiness  or  her  father's  bond. 

THE  HOUSE  OF  DREAMS-COME-TRUE 

How  a  man  and  a  woman  fulfilled  a  Gypsy's  strange  prophecy. 

THE  HERMIT  OF  FAR  END 

How  love  made  its  way  into  a  walled-in  house  and  a  walled-in  heart 

THE  LAMP  OF  FATE 

'      The  story  of  a  woman  who  tried  to  take  all  and  give  nothing. 

THE  SPLENDID  FOLLY 

Do  you  believe  that  husbands  and  wives  should  have  no  secrets  from 
each  other  ? 

THE  VISION  OF  DESIRE 

An  absorbing  romance  written  with  all  that  sense  of  feminine  tenderness 
that  has  given  the  novels  of.  Margaret  Pedler  their  universal  appeal. 

WAVES  OF  DESTINY 

Each   of  these   stories    has  the  sharp  impact  of   an  emotional  crisis — the 
compressed  quality  of  one  of  Margaret  Pedler 's  widely  popular  novels.         ( 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  Publishers,  NEW  YORK 


A     000  035  778     0 


